God's light is there to share not just receive,
like the time my mob-connected uncle delivered the Stanley Cup
into our kitchen, instead of my father throwing him out,
I wish we had filled it with harlequin ice cream and maraschino cherries
and invited the neighborhood to share a shiny cathedral of gold
for just one night. It would have looked like the Mayan ruins
to Catherwood, the blueprint for Hollywood.
