All Together in One Place

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ALL TOGETHER IN ONE PLACE


The spirit of the place, perhaps, 

perhaps the lisps of light that slip


in silent S’s off a sun-tongue

to lick our eyelids. A long


and windy homily on the uncross-

able cleft that has divided us 


from the divine—and a lovely one

at that, intended as an exhortation


that we continue pressing on this belt

of body, pester, “are we there yet?” 


In the meantime, yammer on, priest, 

and please forgive this pent- 


up exclamation, but dear belovéds, 

it would appear that our heads


are on fire, and maybe even—

don’t panic—have always been. 

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