Summer 2009 • Vol. XXXI No. 3 Poetry |

Pilgrim’s Deviations

(First) The holy orders' susurruses, indistinguishable, then the setting-forth, the in-direction: first toward crux, then lux, then x. I'll say the Nones at 3, the Crucifixion hour. No Dies Irae, no hours-of-spleen, no tenderness-minutes, no said graces. No charred sins set out upon the water. Kyrie eleison, whatever You find unburnt here. (Second) The cross's stations lie everywhere, mundo-intolerant. Is it claustral where You issue from, where You'd sequester me diminished among the shriven, what part of who they were remains? Me and You are like heterographs: the difference, say, between the sound of the g in God and the one in naught. (Third) These ex-votos, these scattered word-vows: take and incinerate them, as You will. To have harmonized those eventide hymns a capella, as it's done in the chapel, a defuncta, as they no longer choose to sing here in the AllSurround temple, the Nullum- theon. I want to go where it is

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