Poet in the World

Tuesday, June 6, 2017

Jesus, must I
always be munching
the nether teats
of Corporate America?
Must I always be
a floundering
foundling?
Or will the brights
of your grace fix
my hooves in
place, both
my clicking hooves
and my cloven?
Maybe I’m too hard
to pin down, God,
or to make much of—
maybe too doughy
or doe-eyed.

• • •
 

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