The members of my family wear metal crucifixes
And gather where pandemonium revives
As darkness engulfs summer lawns.
They are a people who do not know all that they
Though they are educated in ritual and declension.
Gently they wade into the shallow end of blood claims.
It is the borders of their pride that will decide
The logarithm of arrivals and dispersal.
And so a resolute splendor persists though you continue to
Dishevel the parameters of utility.
On and on you spin truncated opinions and disturbances.
Why must you deny there is anything more here than a desire
To savor what can be sustained?
The scent of sulfur lingers despite the shift in winds as you
Locate, one final time, the
Axis of your disbelief.