the poetry knook, the poetry of stephen m. james

Wet wall

Sound rebounds from the dry wall around,
A wet wall of worship resounds
Absorbing priorities like water to cacti.
Dry mouths and wet eyes don’t dilute my
Scummy spumes, putrid, yearning for purity:
Drilled on our demigod devotion bowed to daily.
We always move standing in one place,
sick n’ pale; faltering in Your face.
Squinting to see, struggling to focus
Through joy and shame frothed sobs of mucus.
Another rock star to sing to be autographing?
No! Your veins splash soap smothering those below bathing.
Pour through the ceiling from the sudsy sky.
Intense terms lie, intense lives testify.

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© 1993-2024 by Stephen M. James.