Wednesday, April 17, 2013

In Lieu of Dreaming

I followed Jesus around Europe last night,
chilling on metal with German morticians,
filling prescriptions for piety with French pharmacists,
watching Scottish beekeepers argue with elves.
He said things like "drinking coffee is like kissing God"
and "Hungarians really get the importance of a violin to food"
without breaking that beatific smile, which he also kept as he freed
countless people over the course of a long and yellow night
from ancient jails of guilt, remorse and terror.

But morning came, the bars closed again,
the church swept all the prisoners back in,
and before returning to bed for a few precious z's
I saw Jesus again on a bridge in Trieste
with the morning light periwinkle right.
So patient he tried to teach me the secret
of hocking a surgical looger.


Hannah Stephenson said...


Our dreams have excellent senses of humor. Drinking (good) coffee IS like kissing God.

I've been away from blog reading in the last week...nice to return to yours and others I've missed!

the walking man said...

Precision air strikes are the purview of the military.