← v13n1, Spring 2014Poetry · Volume 13, Number 1
Of Religion
Each being: an instrument of His?
The herons chase minnows at
His behest? The dog fights
his new collar (one strap
behind the ears, loop around nose)
to teach us some new tricks
regarding anger and patience?
Consider this our world’s center:
roiling, balled-up mass of
tentacle upon tentacle, a sideways
globe-sized eye—
~
The second before the gunman
makes his intentions believable:
there—that face—no happiness.
Understanding is nothing more
than the brain at the middle of it
all, peacefully asleep.
Are we, then, the dream?
