Arkansas Circus
15 May 2008 — MysticWinoLooking Back; Turning to Ash
Looking back thirty years, I turn to ash;
not salt like Lot’s wife, just ash. That childhood
was not to be looked back upon, white trash
Bible in hand . . . oh, yeah, you preached it good,
didn’t you? “Turn the other cheek!” But God
never deigned to speak to us, thine, or thee!
At some age, I learned your lie—spare the rod . . .
I swore you off, but you never leave me.
Those memories of parental love, lash,
angry word-knives, soul butchery. What could
we treasure from that wrecked ship? The mish-mash:
infrequent daytrips? Fishing? What fish could
be pulled out of Woe’s broad river? What broad
umbrella of grace might catch your rain? Three
his, we two yours—seven seeds for hell’s sod.
I swore off sorrow —it never leaves me . . .
to any sort of lasting peace. The crash
and wail, the dance and scream, leather or wood
in the hand of a madwoman, you . . . smash
it down with fiend-fired eyes and rage withstood
by flesh while souls splinter—this is the GOD
you taught your five charges. But we can see
behind lies’ curtain—knew its, and your, fraud
I forgave you then; this never leaves me
absolved, though I pray it gone. So, how would
we know? At ten then, now at forty, free
as any sinner in hell. At manhood
I swore you off, but you never leave me.
David M Pitchford
19 November 2007 / rev. 18 December 2007/ Rev. 15 May 2008
