appealing

The Maynard
Spring 2020

Patricia Nelson
0:00
 
 

Another Vision

It’s a different place without the fever dream:
The salvation slow and awkward, the sinners
loud and heavy, hauled out of the dark
like buckets, banging on the rocks.

The haulers complain, swinging the blackness
of their mouths, their eyes that glitter
weakly like broken stems or spigots.
The stars roll like wreckage.

In this paradise the stiff, cold blossoms
twist like knuckles over the undulant tasks.
The monster in the shadow doesn’t run or growl
or poke your hiding places with its fingers.

Instead it has a tall, blue eye that counts
and loves, but only as is due,
showing you the hardness of the truth.
And it speaks to certain devils in Hell:

The ones as curious as gerbils,
who scamper lightly over the damned,
touching their intentions,
leaving a dread as soft as hands.