Jan 302015
 
In a batter's cage of kisses, I pray:
"I delight in the little bigness of things-- 
The male and female of the falling weather, 
The thunder's caresses, the hurricane's feathers.
And I delight in the little bigness of time-- 
Magnifying maggots to their true snake's size 
Or ogling saints small from their hail of stars,"
Until my wayside prayer sparks, 
Igniting angst and thanks. 

Dragged by the hair to gratitude 
In morningtime's lucky ache of love, 
I take up my holy task to tell: 

"The pentecostal whip of my missus' kisses, 
The sweet pinch of being in a flea's swell tail, 
The saccharine queen sex who thralls all 
Through life's unforgiving gale,"
Till morning and meaning break in my molten soul 
Gotten and golden and whole. 

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