The event staves off its message / each
picture begetting another on down the isle / a day’s work / done the humble
meal / a fire at night / no doubt, in winter / Savonarola’s tears / on the
pulpit to come // Staves off the decision / marks down
the outlines / on down the isle / images that return / “The same damn saint,”
says the American turning away
// They won’t be able to
blame us for bullets / resting assured of some king of kings / for whom they
have voted / and all that judgment crap
// They hire / executioners
all day long / up against these walls / each one with a paintbrush / and then
to sleep / in the simple cell
// The making and the
undoing of the day and the night / stacked out by the outhouse / grinding glass
for the red (bloodpaint) / soaking in the sin / to contain the sight, the stare
/ looking into the sun / or hugging a cross / with blind faith //
6/26/1990
Florence
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