(let my prayer be set forth in your sight as incense
the lifting up of my hands as the evening sacrifice)

| 1 Comment

grey and greased dishwater
late, last thing – the whole day
and nothing
sanctified


    passive voice & junk mail
    how I wish like David I could
    call down curses

    or wish
    for a string to strike

    or a note to raise in me
    some resonance

grey and greased and dull fatigue
couch crumbed, mindless TV

even sleep held under
a skim of chemicals

sleep your great benediction
your pulsing tug out of the body
      and in
and out – prayer
as a kind of drowsing

from the fry pan I lift
my hands
           dripping like hyssop

***
Psalm 141

(The title is Ps 141:2 NKJV)

1 Comment

hmm ... maybe that whole indented part could go.

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This page contains a single entry by Erin Bow published on December 10, 2003 1:26 PM.

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