the patriots won.

and by the way, the 

super bowl 

was in atlanta 

this year 

steel sap and sinew 

swallowed by an aperture

embedded in a plated nest 

can temperature fill to full 

and feel a sigh 

more still 

the bread is cheap 

and the circus thrills 

over arch and chasm 

twenty one centuries 

call up the doctors 

and motion them to a small likeness 

[a charred child, though no marks remain 

Only a faint smile 

yet she still lies alive] 

intravenous fluids 


then the story fills out its base 

and becomes 

as she speaks 

regarding the remnants 

of epithets 

on the nightstand 

young doves are over the sea 

waters drown the world 

and submerge history 

toes curl the cliff 

next swim 

“aqua vitae” she says to herself 

<iridescent qualifying statements>

now a term is filtered

mentioned in last week’s 

issue of the news and world report 

“golan heights is the sovereign right [of israel not of palestine]” 

A man near that region was once crucified 

in mutilated public display, 

he wept for a man conceived two thousand years in time after 

hiding at the far side of the circular arena in atlanta, 

a foreign land 

searching for 

his inheritance 

weeds seep over and lean on 

the edge of a church steeple

once was a temple 

now where are the worshippers? 

in the steel brazen boxes 

fashioned in the forms of 

greek ruins 

so-called entertainment swirls 

while a hustler pawns off 

the youngest of his girls 

to a dissatisfied 


who’s sport 

is to suck, 

to spit 

an image

and delay 

d e  c a     y

if only for a precious minute 

heaven sown 

with untouchables’ cloaks 

while calls for mercy beckon 

To a husband far from home 

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