by Chris Farago.
We fell tall shadows
With taller tales
And believe that
Michelangelo will come to save us.
Have you been disparaged by
That thing we call the moon?
Do not fret, for it will leave us,
As all things must.
Yes, there’s effort in it,
This living,
But those who say they’re better off otherwise
Are lying.
That fat robin
Thinks he’s got it figured out,
And you know what?
He probably has.
I feign armchair mysticism,
Hoping to grab a few converts;
If I can fool myself for more than a minute,
I’ll consider it time well spent.
Those creation tales
Never got it right:
God comes from God comes from God,
And there’s not much else to say.
Whichever book you opened,
It was the right book
At the right time;
It always is.
I want so badly
For these verses
To be interchangeable,
But they never are.
Amen.