WONDERING

WONDERING

Was wondering
what the soul
is made of

when I heard
you were praying
as hard
as anyone has
prayed
for a rival’s death
celebrating every casualty
in the war you began
as proof of the supremacy
of your (not my)
one
true God
God of missile and bomb
and accurate targeting
(your
thermonuclear arsenal
proof and sign
of how
thoroughly blessed)

but, forgive me
this sad,tangent to
careen
off at
and let us
get
back to the soul and
stuff whereof made

would if I could
try to manufacture me
a new one
fresh from the factory
smelling like
instant salvation (not
like the rose-
scented stigmata
of Father Pio

sanctified on
account of, yet
despite, his suffering
Rome’s
constantly bleeding,
wonder
of this forlorn age

beloved, most loving
saint