Tuesday, April 13, 2010

St. Margaret of Castello (patron of the poor, crippled, and unwanted)


there are bedrooms full of us.

peeling metallic wallpaper,

the music saying all is well

when we clearly know it is not.

maybe we should move to

the side of town God lives on.


your body breaks into song

when I leave it alone.

who knew you had perfect pitch?

who knew your voice was a circle

of traps in this wilderness?

tear at my ankles,

keep me here.

No comments:

Post a Comment