Unholy Imaginings

I will be publishing an ebook of my finalized poems this Wednesday.  Stay tuned!

In the meantime… an old poem.

I have a fantastic couch that’s been with me through some pretty rough times.  There were a few moments in 2018 where my life was shattered, and so were the lives of people that I love.  Sometimes, they held me on my couch while I wept.  Sometimes I held them and tried to be brave.  This poem is about a time we gathered up uncertainties in our arms and comforted one another in picturesque grief.

In my mind’s eye, it looks like Michaelangelo’s ‘Pietà’ sculpture.  Greasier, of course, and unholy… definitely a lot more denim.   But I felt all of it: the pain, the beauty, the absurdity.  I feel it still.  I cannot unravel the idea of this sculpture from the couch or you or the country music that moved us.  I am often lost in a pained misunderstanding of forgiveness as I try to be a better person.

We all have our crosses to bear.

Much love to you, as always.

honkytonk pietà

the sculptor intended
for you to hold me
cradling my still form
your delicate features
set with marble intensity

you thought i had died
and, darling, so did i
but i rose again
just to tell more lies
(they look so pretty in a poem!)

we belong together
two glorious forms,
who twine so perfectly
they must be wrought
from the same stone