Fool Psalm

Alyson Shaw

One foot over the cliff, dog yapping
at my heels and thumbprints of ash
under each eye, I've nothing to give up
or take on, save a willingness
to undergo the medicine of crucifixion
if it would save You. Spare me the dramatics, You answer and
big red heaven opens -- all the cherubim and seraphim are hymning,
three holy innocents pray on their heads,
balancing sheep on feet.
John eats locusts.
Vitus dances, tossing hearts
excised from the holy, gray dyed red and etched
with words: Love thy, trouble I, wretched, see
and Mary laughs, her hand covering a mouthful of bread.
 

Alyson Shaw