aayoungmy fears are hidden at home in my onion knife
as I drink coffee that tastes like David Mamet
left it standing
downtown on a Tuesday morning
during a plague
somehow that proves
there are things I don’t regret
while we pretend to have enough choices left
the way a crumbling sidewalk shows us
dandelions will continue to grow
on the strength of their convictions
.
Twin brothers
born of the 3rd century
in Cilcia, Turkey
.
The patron saints of
physicians and surgeons
and those suffering
with blood disease
.
kindly hear
my anemic prayer
.
Saints who gave up their lives
so that others
may have comfort and mercy
.
Saint Kosmas
and
Saint Damianos
speak in gently whispered prayer
to God for me
.
O Gladsome Light of the Heavens
I implore the holy spirit
to take away my ailments
and be of service to others
that they see
of thy
Glory
.
.
my hands and heart
pray a rosary
of a different sort
.
one constructed by survival
that was never blessed
by a politician in a gaudy dress
and fetid purse in vatican city
.
the first bead is my mother
whom i thank for giving me life
.
the second bead is my father
who took his own
under the misguided notion
my existence would be improved
by the tortured deed
.
the third is shared by two men
who stepped in
to protect and daddy me
as they are my personal diocese
.
and the fourth is a thank you
to the man who taught me to appreciate
the good in the world
by showing me
how sick a human can be
.
and he should be grateful
as his best poetry has come
from hating
unapologetically happy
me