Thank You for Coming to the 8pm Eucharist
I know you trekked a hell of an earth to get here,
I know lightning bugs trail you even now, know your ghost
waits right outside these doors, know in your spine, you
feel altitudes, know wolf meat attaches your bones, know
you touched the steering wheel tenderly as you could, as your
father would, know the pews here stink like wood is rotting, know
the windows freak you out, know the ceiling
flies over us, know the darkness does business, with itself, know
in the Scripture today, the First Christian Vampire says
all the natural stuff, all the stuff you need to partake, and know
you need He Who had the Empire of Death to partake, that is,
to say, the Devil. Always know the Devil. Know how to wait
for Mars. Know stars are like East Coast buoys groaning
in a silence far off from a moon they forget they know. Forget
the lobsters climbing around beneath all that. Forget the boat
that will come with the seagulls circling in a blur like a blender. Forget
all your seven neighbors sitting here with you tonight, residents of Tiffin
County, Ghosts to the East Coast, Pen Pals of Mercury,
the 9th Century, and God’s other remote zones. Remember
these zones. Remember yourself nude for 10 seconds. Remember the body
in love. Remember how you unfolded your khakis. Remember the coffee
on the dresser. Remember the height of its steam. Remember the news
despising itself from down the hallway somewhere, remember
this was not your house. Remember those were not your blankets
and the wall’s light vivid like a yes, then a no. Remember the smile,
the teeth like burning buildings, or right before they burned. Remember
you didn’t even shower. You stunk. Remember
it was Monday and work from here was only a mile down Main Street
but you had to go home first to get your bridle, your saddle. The hat too.
Phoebe, the horse, would be upset. She was.
Her black hair gleaming like wine as you walked forward with the reins.
Sam Bailey is from central Pennsylvania. His poems have appeared or are forthcoming in The Yale Review, The Drift, Best New Poets, Image, The Missouri Review, The Adroit Journal, Colorado Review, and elsewhere. He is a PhD candidate at Harvard, an Associate Editor at Peripheries, and the Co-Editor in Chief of Mark.