Friday, July 17, 2020


To the ears 
of the world-weary, the 
ascetic life 
sounds wonderful, 

but something horrible 
is smuggled into 
the perfect love 
of the angel.

Upon closer inspection, 
the saint's meek austerity 
is a bit too severe; 
the blazon martyr may fare better. 

You may say 
you grow tired 
of arguing til dawn
or fighting war with gusto,

but you'd never dare
disavow the passion 
and the feeling
and the ardor. Truth is,

in the bid for perfection,
it's the devoted 
who risk going abstract
and toothless; I suppose

one must be more
than a touch ruthless 
to wear the crown they
call the halo.