Thirteenth Hour
Turning in soft bed covers under
smooth wonder of a quiet mind
overly excited by sudden arrival
of the first spring morning
and hour of ravening hyenas
laughing in glee rubbing
greedy paws and porgy bellies
intelligence rivulet hardly trickles
through golden reeds when He
strikes to defy good sense
choosing sides and names a clan His
favored with quixotic conceit
of a lazy mind engaging
play when He drops quail
and manna to feed
them in incessant mind maze
thicket of frozen fog becomes
a wall of silence where His eyes
travel farther Don’t cry for
the stillness of hope young antelope
pointless points back to His absurd
fancy for negligence
and its paradoxical nonsense though
the symphony crescendos in the
heart of totality and overshadows
His desultory whim
just enough to seed
my anger in the thirteenth hour
my anguish in its moment of silence
and He relegates another lost kiss
for the lips of the prettiest lass who
asks ‘why?’ and forbidden
apple answers as if from purgatory:
who cares?
Libros Libertad 