I Poison My Food By Forgetting To Pray

cherries1

I poison my food by forgetting to pray

Letting the day

Or night fall into illusory questioning,

Best when the plinko ball leaves the multiple-choice game and

Rests in the grass

Lest the mass inspires me to

Ask, is remembering or prayer my saving grace?

Engraving space for fallacies to pour in like a mob chasing after the free

Laughter by we,

Who fall short of worthy praise.

Then dazed to Mozart’s 25th piano concerto

(Twenty-fifth. And I toy with wanting to compose,

The trombone goes

As if big ideas are my toys like books on a shelf, and next line the

Oboe, or notes stacked in scales, waiting to be rearranged,

Pianissimo. Piano by the one who comes along and dips her toes into the moon…

Tidal rippling tunes…)

Tired of the world of doughy peace and prenatal pills,

Fatally ill minds and authorship in the hands of the loud and democratic,

Emphatic and tolerant, politically-correct and gymnastically inept.

The thing kept in my mind and lingered like vagrants in an art house,

Eyebrows high when a girl told me people read to escape.

Evading their fate but I had never thought of reading that way, only sleep.

My roots go deep, my trunk broadens, my branches grow out and multiply,

Again I ask why I can’t ride these poetic clouds when a limey’s calling me drunk with friends and baseball and scene and I rap and he goes “That’s fucking beefing!” And they’re at a place and trying to figure it all out. But here I am

My roots go deeper,

And I realize people are people and not

Ideas, or even notes or voices

When starved of the choices they invent in whatever virtual real world.

I’m a believer too and tonight the only thing I can know—from blood to soul—

Is that these cherries taste sweeter when I talk to God.

 

© 2012, Amaya Engleking

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2 comments

  1. Way Past Due · February 21, 2016

    “I’m a believer too and tonight the only thing I can know—from blood to soul Is that these cherries taste sweeter when I talk to God.”
    Lovely poetry … absolutely lovely.

  2. Pingback: May Baby | Gospel Isosceles

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