They minister to/
us, because we minister/
to them: A fair trade.
When the temple’s closed/
for cleaning, the feeling’s not/
the same. They aren’t there.
“Judge not” means to not/
criticize those folks who we /
imagine judge us.
If you let your kids/
lead you around and tell you /
what to do, they will.
What does it mean to/
be relevant? To make a/
difference to one.
If everyone is/
singing and writing about/
pain, you’re not alone.
Two songs that inspired this poem:
David Bowie’s Rock n Roll Suicide
AND
REM’s Everybody Hurts
We danced in the desert,
but no equine, she.
So I watched
and saw
what she
and others
could not:
Her luscious pink lips,
parted slightly in a smile,
the gentle curve of her body
as it swayed to and fro
to the music
while her hair,
waved back and forth
as though a blonde mane
caught in a mid-summer’s desert
not sirocco
evening breeze.
The sparkle and laughter of her eyes
as they caught
and reflected
and augmented
the spotlights.
The brilliance of her smile
exposed,
as she laughed with youthful glee,
recalling perhaps
those teenage years
when she first danced
in mid-America
to that song.
Her wise father said/
nothing about heavenly/
angels. Earth’s hosts came.