I refuse to pray
the way
they do
in church.
I say Goddammit! Stop this sweating sun
and moonlit mold
poison ivy sting
itching tick-bite
tiny virus burrowing in my nasal cells when I have no Kleenex,
and wind churning up dust
in my eyes!
That is my Sunday to Sunday prayer.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
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These are good poems
ReplyDeletefor the light and dark
hearted to consider
indepth and
on the
surface
of the ground
where they
sprout.
Thank you. You are very kind to say that.
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