Thursday, January 13, 2022


Some day, I must be
braver than this

and establish my own religion—
one in which I
permit things

which amaze me
to exist.

And perhaps, while I'm at it,
I'll allow what's amusing
to matter a little bit.

And who knows?
After careful consideration,

maybe I'll even be
hard-pressed to admit

that the reason
its passé Sunday services
should persist

is to give all our grandmothers
a halfway decent reason

to remember to videotape
the figure skating competition,

to lay out smart shoes
and to powder their noses,

and to keep their short
blue-ish white
hair coiled-up

in those perfectly
tight little
beautiful roses.