Cheek against the woodgrain O forgive
     (gray perfume of wax and rain)
this need of man strength of honor’s fist
     (how like a mouse into the crushed cushions)
against the rape the spit and tearing
     (I brought my pain. The small dry seeds.)
and why not stand in sun though we stand on nothing
     (sage incense of ash of libraries)
begrudge me not protection till your terrible rescue
     (everything that breathes here is already burnt)

Knees against the leather I feel the arms
     (how soon the boot blinds the battered clay)
falling and falling like axes
     (across your face is mine)
little rats the flesh worries
     (the brain waits for those other cold teeth)
who would not raise the Barabbas hand
     (seeing himself raised)

Still against the stone the silence bells
     (under the dress darkness under the soles smoke)
something passes not time but its longer shadow
     (behold the same sky prisoner torturer)
where was he night nailed to day between them
     (in the tomb in the middle of time)
terrible it passes will we fear him
     (stronger than the evil stones)


          published in Fulcrum, 2004