Archangel, Archangel,
whose gig is
to watch—
quit your day-
dreaming
of eternity
and trembling,
of
not dying, but worse—aging
in reverse: first
moving back
into your parents' house. Then wingless,
forgetting
everything. Finally rawboned,
naked,
viscerally alone.
Archangel, Archangel,
quit your day-
dreaming;
somebody coming. Somebody
listening. Somebody
might be—
already in here.
