I pray Thee


if my past be the place
i spend the rest of my life
i choose to remember not heroes.
men and women who thitherto
stood for something and sat for nothing.
we don’t die of thirst in an ocean
we drown at first in the water’s commotion
hope may come
but when we seek the kind of healing
a priest can’t prepare
the outcome of the mix we must beware
for if my past be the place
i spend the rest of my life
then we already died.
we must bury these bodies beneath bitterness
worry less for the widow
speak less of God
And curse the present
because tomorrow we’ll be stuck
in another past…probably our last.


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