Atheist’s Creed

Again temptation pierces –gentle claws cutting skin, meat.Blood tears from newly opened socketsas she/he/it purrs promises. But I can’t close my eyesin darkness, to darkness.Press palms against lidsuntil optic nervesflare their ghost light –pretending the universeis glutted with shine.

An Angle on Life

I’ve aged unevengrowing legs of a different life.I tilt through this world.Part-short, awkward clop, clop, clop of a semi-molded limb.I’m six or eight or ten – alone again.If playground distances are measured to the nearest pal,my book, my wall, my shade made my continentand I or he or the sniffling, shuffling boystill waits at the…

American Dreams

Frozen, blank concrete won’t hold his words;even his mind no longer hears him,only receives the slur of an unkempt, entropic lifelike the night reception of a distant stationtalking love and life in a foreign tongue. Dime – he said – or time or chime orthe breeze takes itas he counts his grungy pennies, quarters, nickelswith…

At the Catholic Cemetery

Where once was laughter, rain erodes rock –surrogate tears for nearby mother’s griefburied heart and breast decaying or decayedshudders of woe long ceased. Yet in this row, silenced children cuerib-cages once filled blood and gush and laugh and sighnow own stale air, dust, vacancy. And someday my child will join that rank and fileand time…

If God Knew Pig Latin …

priests would worship in playgrounds where children seal their covenants beneath the monkey bars; playful words would be sacred words my smiling secret joke with you – a prayer; religions might forego their special handshakes as all learn igpay atinlay by the second grade. If God knew Pig Latin, perhaps he, perhaps she, would hold…