Thursday, December 21, 2006

Mother Mary


She doesn’t bring things
that couldn’t accrue to other crises,
such as hands holding bouquets
or a shepherd’s staff made only of E’s.

The sound of my temple beating
against the pillow I once thought
was m’eyelash, though I couldn’t prove it.

Even when I went stiff
I could not escape the sound
of my pulse licking the hay.

And yet it still amazes my parents
each December when I tell them
I don’t want to rehearse
the nativity scene anymore.




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