Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Outside the Walls

That's what I want to be. One fish
in the numberless fish of the snow.
-- Chase Twichell

Easter is the resurrection: the renewal
of the blood sacrifice, the enshrinement
of killing the innocent to protect the guilty.
Oh yes, we're all on board. Wash while
you sing the alphabet song: wash while
you sing the cathedral program.
You'll never be clean. Not if you strip
the flesh from your fingers: the stain
is in the marrow bone. And in spite of that
we call this Friday good.

This is my last visit to the church,
my dears. Thank you for letting me in.
Thank you for letting me gaze
at your strange and bloody pictures.
I will never tell the truth again. You've won.
I am going to live outside the walls:
I always have, I always will. Still, thank you:
thank you for letting me sit in an alien pew;
thank you for letting me pretend, a while.


Dale said...

In massage school I was taught to wash my hands, before doing a massage, for "as long as it takes to sing the alphabet song."

NT said...