Damnable I who forget
Too that all are adjoined
In the fullest brilliance
Of sundered stars and
Marrow of common struggles
The maw of whispered covenants
Consuming all
The keptwomen, concubines, and hustlers
The self-righteous, chaste, and pious
Dripping wet the tears, vitreous
Down the ever-long, plain visages
The poor and meek give credence
But sidle no sway
For the intrepid capitalist
Who both kiss the convulsions
And whisps of wind; their candles
Aflicker amid endless dark
Were it not for the
Purple and tumid faces of
The newborn babe,
Innocent as the wren’s
Redolent call to remind
Us of our own nakedness and
Omnific soul
That knows all, and sees all
But speaks not at all
Lest the visceral is made incorporeal
And brought before the judgment
Of our bursting hearts
With joy and anger, and evidenced wonder
For in the end as in the beginning
Darkness.
And you will know for all have been
A light betwixt its arms…
THE WAYFARER 