Grinding these hopes
but I’ll make bread from this
listless dust born of nopes.
Just give me, O Lord,
that ingredient least
that lifts me to live,
Your beneficent yeast.
Grinding these hopes
but I’ll make bread from this
listless dust born of nopes.
Just give me, O Lord,
that ingredient least
that lifts me to live,
Your beneficent yeast.
On a tree
flipped the earth
and flung the sea.
His waves in space
are coursing still.
They have a lot of
time to kill.
Free it from the can, please.
Stop mashing the albacore.
Well, no, a man
at church.
He held his baby boy
close to his chest,
and his daughter followed.
Oh that baby, I know,
he’ll light up and
strike out,
and dad’ll be pissed,
and when the sword is slashing
there’s cutting all around.
But through it all
there’s this:
the embrace,
and the watching eye
of the girl.
The touch that loosed the shackle
was like that of a girl.
You don’t think she’s interested
until her fingertips
graze your arm.
Then you feel it
through your whole body.
I followed, of course,
right out that door.
But then she was gone.
Today is not the fated day
when the rest of it is known.
Stretched out and worried