An Effigy for Saint Jude Honey sweet confessions And a vibrant peach mouth. Sore, lazy tongue Embarrass me from a pulpit- Sounds of a tired church symphony. Worshipping behind the pews Where you call me by name. Make me drink the bitter wine, Metallic, swollen lips Pressed against the chest of a saint. Rub holy water on your palms And kneel at a broken window. Cut my hair with a shard of glass, Offer it to a cherub, softly- And count the tolling of a bell. Eulogy for a Sweetheart Poppies in early June, Staining clenched finger tips red - The color of skin against violently soft words. Quiet lovers in open fields Planting seeds next to wildfires. Hurricane Season Your fingertips against mine Moving up up up Touch my lips to find your name- The one your mother gave you. It rained the nigh...