the walk

The Eucharist drawn over the chalice
A paper mache moon simmering in Botox.

Bits of flake fall through the enamel of my mouth
Lighting the spaces wasted in harsh whistles.

An orderly frames the Tabernacle with Frankincense
While I am held at the Station--

No warrant, cuffs, or steel for me mind you
Only Him with heavy chains cutting his upper lip.

All for saying I Love You in a way that would put Zales to shame.

Station Five and my buddy Simon ignores me
Waiting to be released like me for another call

From the only Parole Officer worth getting drug tested for.

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Comments

RSScheerer

17 years 4 months ago

Nice to see you again, Quills

It has been a while! I think the strongest aspect to this piece is its metaphors. You write with such an original voice, distinctly you and deeper than the surface. Nicely done, friend. It is good to see new work from you. Best ~ Ronda

Arrow

17 years 4 months ago

Very effective in bringing

Christ into the present and in reminding one both that 1) the ideas of eternal life/youth, love and reprieve have more than their mundane, commercial meanings and 2) that gratitude, like love, necessitates action. I have not knelt at the stations in many, many years but remember how powerful the experience was.

barbsdad2003

17 years 4 months ago

Glad to see ...

another piece of yours. And "Hi," by the way. Your metaphors, along with invitation to reflective thought, bring a curious richness/texture to this write. Thanx, Chuck

Quillsvein1

17 years 4 months ago

Thank you

everyone and Happy Post-Holidays! My comp is back in action again and I look forward to enjoying your work. gb

weirdelf

17 years 4 months ago

A paper mache moon simmering in Botox.

is a poem in itself. I love your work, even when I find the catholic/religious imagery a bit alienating. You are one of the finest poets on the site and it's fantastic to see your poetry and feedback again. cheers, Jess "Who are you writing for?"