literature

Now the Pressure to Do Well

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Literature Text

Because whoever you are in that moment
Ends. Chained to the walls,
Jaws and dull necks hanging out
Over the arm of a yellowed couch in the back
Of a green van driving through Seattle.

They were in it. They wore the bad spaces
As soldiers their rifles ready for the fall.
Memories swinging down, bright, leaping,
And mostly quiet.

Because you know you need the church
Without doors, without pews, without
Belonging to barely breathing gods mouthing
Infinity (though not to say you shouldn’t claim
some wrong turns).

Most stowaways are starless buckets,
Most still want nothing to do with mankind,
Most are told to stop looking,
Most dirt piles know me.

Whoever they were.
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