THREE PRAYERS

one

What I grip is torn from my hands.
What I let go of floats away and does not return.
You are trying to kill me,

Before dawn you eat one hundred thousand children
draw  water up the delicate veins of a morning glory
make the billion neurons in my son’s brain jump alive
seeing a cricket in the grass.
You raise the dead   then threaten to burn them
alive!

I don’t know you.

I watch you coming up the street
broken houses bowing down to you in snow.
Even in the distance your huge smile
your teeth crooked with bliss.

two

Your mouth on my mouth speaking in tongues!
Your tongue in my mouth
a hermit dancing in his cave!
The whole world going up like cellophane in fire!

three

You say I should be alone.
You offer me this cup of wine with the full moon floating
perfectly in the center of it.

.

.

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