|Louie Crew||The 2River View, 9.2 (Winter 2005)|
Red worms crawl through ice cream cone tunnels
in a space spiraling just outside your mind.
Why? God is I, You, She, bringing incense
even to forbidden altars.
Suppose you want to touch the back of flowers
and feel guilty in a world where men fear
not at all to blow one another to bits,
away from home.
How much soul can we tabulate?
The smile of one no longer a virgin;
patterns of weakness as holiness;
learning that dead Christmas trees
are still pretty.
|Authors • Poems • PDF • 2River|