mornings and death
are the great equalizers
we’re all drawn the same when we’re dead
or first thing in our early morning
my shower stall is
made of glass
it’s where i lift the fog
seeing clearly
hanging within my stainless shower caddy
are shampoos and conditioners
made with the tears of kittens
lanolin
and local honey
a bottle of wild turkey and/or
a travel mug
of illegally smuggled cuban street coffee
beside rain forest friendly shaving creams
lost love salves and angry razors
knotted hair detangler
french bottled bath balms
and derrida mind deconstructor
hot water
the holy father
they would have you think the virgin mary
merely a sponge
an exfoliating soap bar
made from dead sea mud
which leads me to hope
i’m soaping my bits and pieces
with bits n’ pieces of jesus
i write poems on my skin
and wash them off
into the river seeking drain
knowing all my words
these fleeting thoughts
and this body
are graced with the glorious state
of existing
temporarily
we
like seas
end
just before the edge
of stars
3 replies on “made of glass”
You have a great ability to bring the individual and universal together. I really enjoyed reading this one. I read it a few times and was drawn to many of the images and ideas.
Ben, that’s warming, thank you.
What you do to a man with words no bottle of wine, priest or beautiful prostitute could ever dream of doing.