Child's Song

A child falls
then bleeds,
stumbles and bleeds.
She bleeds and bleeds.

What do we do

when we fall?

"Get back up, Papa!"

A thousand cuts
follow her
into adulthood.

 

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

 

A child farts
then laughs,
belches and laughs.

She laughs and laughs.

Where do you 

feel it?

"In my belly, Papa!"

Laughter is an anecdote

to life's callous
encroachments.

 

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

 

A child mourns

then cries,

questions and cries.

She cries and cries.

Why the ambulance,

Papa?

"For the neighbor, Buddy."

Death and mourning

usher the cycle
of renewal.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

 

So play the song
that she may sing,
play it 'til
the fingers bleed.

Strike up the band.
She sings and sings.

"Play it again, Papa!"

A child's song
celebrates
the living thing.

Little Sister's Salvation

The taste of discontent dances on her tongue
like a chorus of prickly demons.

She leaps from lurid substance to senseless scheme
weaving a manic crescendo of hapless dreams
that fade to disappointment,
as sure as the children on her hips,
creditors at her doorstep,
uninvited wrinkles in the mirror.

Give it all to Jesus!, a pasty man 

in the television declares — and she does.
She swallows him down with renewed hope
for a speedy route to salvation,
as she did with countless men,
countless diets, cosmetic surgery,
cigarettes, crack cocaine.

Now, little sister has a mansion in the sky
and the promise of everlasting life.
She mails a gift of faith each month
to a Fort Worth ministry who massage
her frail, desperate heart.
She calls me from Toledo to announce
her passage through this life
is a mere dress rehearsal:

"An audition, Dear Boy, for a starring role
at the feet of the Almighty."

“What about the rent?” I inquire.

"The good Lord will provide."

I send her a check in exchange for prayer
and a pamphlet titled,
Where Will You Spend Eternity?.

** First published in Beyond Words International Literary Magazine

** Illustration by Morgane Xenos