Saturday, March 9, 2013

The drunken man


The drunken man                                                                         

“Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?”
the woman asked the drunken man

(who had stumbled and stomped upon her toe). 
“Yes,” he replied, “every moment

of every hour of every day.”         
How to tell serum from pathogen,

elixir from applejack?  A shot of whiskey
might prove a bracing tonic for one

but, it’s like gasoline on the fire of a raging drunk.
A madman might be slapped and brought

to his senses or, sent off on a violent spree.
The Prayer says, Repent  . . . for our constant failures,

but does the evidence add –  then proceed unashamed?
Repent and see the essence of yourself above the artifice?

Drowning in shame, what do our inherent
and ever-recurring failures and repentances matter?

What drove the children from the garden? –
their transgressions  or their disgrace

even now enmeshing, riddling with culpability,
the daily machinations of their progeny? 

O child of God, keep your head above water
by endlessly repeating the name of your Beloved.
  

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