Tuesday, March 13, 2018

THE LAST CRUSADE

The old priest never told me—
try to feel this
not as words,

but rocks—
not the bare facts
but the hard ones,

and not the ones
out there anchoring
the land, either

but like that one pithy hard
pit in the dark
fortress of your stomach:

Ambivalence—exists.
Incertitude, perplexity,
insignificance—runneth over.

Bewilderment
covers the earth.
And your resolve

your young
tender confidence
composure, dedication—these things

are like His skin:
when pummeled with stones, each
bruises easily.

Forget about salvation,
what you seek
is protection. What you need

is a barrier.
Body and soul?
No—the true analogy

fits together
much more like: clothing
and body.

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