Though We Say Hallelujah



I step into the coffee shop
Aligning myself in the
Neat, orderly row. It is
Our human branding
Because, God surely
Loves parallel lines.
We don’t know this,
Though we say, hallelujah.
A baby cries behind me
A sign, a siren, a warning
We have been ordained his wrath.

Hot coffee, burning my tongue
I walk away, next to streets
Car’s horns sing like trumpets,
Yellow dashes keeping
Machines and their baggage
On the straight and narrow.

A distant train wails in C Minor,
I kneel along the tracks,
Praying for hand grenades and flint locks.
I think of Thanksgiving,
Plates passed, first the turkey,
The mashed potatoes, the candied yams.

If only we had taken turns
Lighting it all on fire.
For whoever fed the poor,
The hungry?
They did it for you.

I claw at the ground
Putting handfuls in my mouth.
I will eat the dirt,
Before the dirt eats me.
Ashes to ashes,
We all come
Tumbling down.

This entry was posted in Poems and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s