• The Frame of a Moment in his Presence
    Effleurage the boy
    Let the quiescence of the room hum,
    In the sallow lights of sanctum
    We’ve created
    From the cactus blooms
    Of sweat resurrecting in your palms
    I am conquered yet protreptic
    Caught up in untied questions
    I wait by the chain link fence
    The plumage of ash
    Loosens from the shriveled remains
    Of a white cigarette bird
    In flight we tailor it a name
    We call it a burning irrationality
    Sufficient to say
    One that I shall not easily forget


    The twist and turn of 200 stomachs

    Gathered, hands folded with handkerchiefs in the wrangle of the thoughts

    All of us, fishes in a tank

    Listening, forgetting, remembering 

    Crying tears that are lost in mahogany wood of the pews

    With a bunk for a dead boy

    Below the upheaval of Jesus Christ’s chest

    And all the satin flowers watered and new

    Why? Because this is the tragedy. And why?

    Because the red sun doesn’t forget the day

    And life doesn’t forget to snatch you dead

    And turn you belly up grey

    And whirlwinds come once and awhile

    And they come in forms of ludicrous angst,

    To my dear God’s child

    Weight the anchor on this massive ship called church

    We breathe,

    Because we can…

    And know that not everyone gets to breathe for very long