Sunday, December 3, 2006

Through Tubes Under Cities A Wedding

I flipped home palsied and pissed
for a wedding. Slowly my mother spread
her fronds and shone at having men
clean up, while padre and I
helped ourselves until
my cousin told the ring she did.

The priest was slurring shit like:
"love izuh cammada raimbows!"
When he shut up we prayed
and I heard no words but outpushed breath,
lovely catholic consonants blinking like
brass stars toward the parking lot.

I want to tell you what I saw there:
a neo-nazi,
a woman climbing a tree,
a lake under boiling clouds,
a misplaced pill
on the window sill.

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