Fork, spoon, bowl, plate, paper, glass, porcelain:
disseminate. This court is in session; let the trial be--
(Oh, the pain. Nevermind that. We will continue,)
--begin. What did you see the other night?
Behind the pristine counters and knobs,
behind stiff waitresses with braces twice removed.
I saw on the glass door, upon walking in,
a snooty badge of hypocrity--two lines
converged and attached at the hip.
(Oh, the pain. Nevermind that. We will continue,)
Who handled you in the ostensible shine,
fit for the obsessive; glistering metal, flawless glare.
Tell me now; my mind begs of pencils and pens;
my body? Of bananas and bread.

3/1

Oh quaint and loving Jesu,
heal my battered wounds and morbid aphorisms.
Mend my fogged brain stem and stiff myocardium.
(I feel so hazy, like the white daisies
billowing on the hillsides--cloud-like.)
Ambivalent moodswings (perimenopausal, perhaps),
attract me to You like the chemotactically enamored
lymphocytes (with the immunogens).
Bless this bracketed heart,
Jesu--it's the soul of a nurse I must build
a rapport--a concord, a companionship.
(Perhaps a pedigree would clarify
the type of harmony I mean.)

I'm lost in the drizzle of the truth;
and it's more difficult to return
to the unlikeliness that is of You--Dear Jesu.