Tuesday, March 05, 2013


Father, your snow falls
like leper's sores,
like scales from blinded eyes.

Father, it falls like
your bread from heaven.
Your every word
falls like that,
and washes--

Oh, Father, the crust
falls from my dead heart.
The earth breaks
and the tomb creaks open.

--as white as that,
when the smear
and the maggots have been on me
not for three days,
but from the womb!