Joel Clifton Yaney
Hymn
--from Salvation Sonnets
Seemingly seamless, once one cloth was he and I
but within this kissed and pissed-upon paradise
this pair of eyes cannot be paralyzed, no device
can procure the needle needed to rectify
life altered by god-loss when in darkness my
thin skin let sin in & in interim such vice
let bleed faith through end-pain I attempted twice.
On a whim I called for him. No reply.
Now I string nets to catch what dreams remain
through these beads of rain on the window pane
and move, hungry and huge, a spider to its prey.
But sacred or profane, each fleshy catch I drain
tastes pretty much the same. Nothing lost, nothing gained:
dreams drop like spent shells at a shooting range.
