Wedding Bells

 
 
 

glad tidings
 
from a dusty church—
 
wedding bells

Evening’s Work

 
 
 

Prostitutes lie down
 
for another evening’s work—
 
three monks chant matins.

Flying

 
 
 

Dreams go up in smoke,
 
flying through the ragged hole
 
she gouged in your heart.

Perfume

 
 
 

The buzzards keep watch
 
as old women dab perfume
 
on their sagging jowls.

Childhood

 
 
 

innocence
 
swept away by tears
 
childhood lost

Laughter

 
 
 

She keeps coming back,
 
despite the laughter of God,
 
to the praying place.

Paycheck

 
 
 

A paltry paycheck
 
brings me to my knees, while tears
 
stain my last dollar.