Selected Poems
No Halo
Here are no halos above us, only sky.
We walk on clods of earth.
No clouds below our feet.
Trust no one who prays misguided.
Even angels have gone into hiding
avert their eyes while among demons.
Day in, day out, we wake to rise
work and sleep, bleed hope and walk
with a bitter rabble of better men.
Salvation arrives an hour too late
lingers on street corner, a block away
and laughs out loud, claps with holey hands
mocking the misfortune of it all.
