ACCOUNT OF MY DAYS
Sequence: 7
TIME RELIGION
worshipped by ticks prayed to
cease by cease up against the tides
up against arthritis we appeal
to next and hang on its saints
the other gods are crows flying in it
water flows through it toxins creep
trees grow and fall wind blows
could it blow outside of time
the wheels under me make hymns
my worship will die
it will be laying with the others
like a plate full of offerings
sins against time are absorbed in the seasons
the morning glory's greed for sun
is checked by frost
sunflowers' proud heads are bent in the direction
their seeds are forced to go
starting each morning with my knees
on calendars I took up the black pen
it was the hand off a clock now the face
is uncertain
we have been living
we will have been living
we will have triumphed over it again
by submission to its sacrament of waiting
there are sanctuaries of forgetting of sleep
of being knocked in the head
we have loved will be loved in it
my hand was on his heart
I could feel the muscle measuring
a time alien to mine