Lent 2019

His love’s a blade this time of year.

Bright as the vernal equinox

Cold as the rain that ends the snow

Hard as the howling Lenten wind.

 

He made that blade to break my heart

To cut a furrow deep and straight

Beneath the salt and cigarettes

Into the darkness where I sleep.

 

To find and lay beneath the sun

All that which I have hidden there

All the buried coins and corpses

Secrets scattered to the seagulls.

 

Here his love comes, belching diesel

To till the fields of no-man’s-land

Pouring into my ripped-up heart

Seeds by the hundred million.


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