written on a cell phone notes app on august 8, 2017. poem.
another installment of the “Cell Phone Notes” series. if you think these are A Lot, you should see the ones i tapped out on my iPhone SE in 2015.
features: imagery involving a trip to a Canadian lakehouse that you have never been to. but the imagery includes dogs and turtles so, really, how can you refuse? to be honest the whole poem is a bit stale, and i would have struck it from the website, except the last part about bees is quite nice. manages to get me every time.
the church is beautiful as all churches are
beautiful. a woman walks in with her
family and her jaw gapes. i think she is
crying. the church is beautiful and i think
of the church we saw in Budapest. St.
Stephen’s Basilica. no picture i took came
close to doing it justice. i think of the cabin
we stayed in in Kingston. i wonder if the
water is a bit more placid today. when we
went it was rough and angry, smashing up
against the shore. the dogs jumped in
anyways, gleeful and struck with
madness. i think of my brother and his
shovel and the small pile of turtle eggs. i
didn’t think eggs could bleed, but i saw the
red streaks smeared on the shell as a
sludge of yolk slipped out. all noise in the
church is reduced to a quiet hum, and i
wonder how that is possible. the green of
the church arches is so dull that it seems
flat somehow, like a painting. i really do
love stained glass windows. i do not know
how they are made, but i always imagined
workers lovingly dipping shards of glass
into honey. but then, i guess all the bees
would come. it might be nice, a church full
of bees. the dull buzz probably sounds like
a prayer.