Joel Best
when we offer ourselves to faith but faith won't have us
glacial scan of the lower self why convince inclement
weather to subside more focused on collecting gradual
scars than with the habitual motion of thought pass through remember a
journey drawn on secret maps leading to secret
gravesites marked with tiny crosses
share patient gaze hope to be curled up around one another
these days of transverse emotion snappish with words never
spoken with a sense of profound duty broadcast diagrams of
internal mechanisms settled down to enshrine first instincts call it father’s
moon call it mother’s eclipse take flight after scratching
stick figures on fence staves
believe in belief is it the divine plan is it a suggestion
beyond the substance of mirrors how truth resides in
sediment a wish to sit together but still apart build boxes
of contradictions until bleached blind by too much unexpected light such as
spoiled by metaphor shamed into wearing ironic robes too
much at peace to float away
Other work by Joel Best