John of Patmos, Kneeling

Wikipedia Poem, No. 623

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“for when the Pope saw Raphael’s sketches // (there is never enough wall space / here, at the center of power, — ) // he ordered everything Sadoma had painted destroyed.” Frank Bidart

“One thing there’s no getting by —
I’ve been a wicked girl,” said I;
“But if I can’t be sorry, why,
I might as well be glad!”
Edna St. Vincent Milay

exiled we by dire storm 
born of a little sin
gilled systems ill of theses
mercy snaps its cloud   like wicked birch
scorched to mere mercy   whose little sorrow
judged in laodicean fire & ninety-five mph winds 
wouldn't weep   nor re-use what will has transpired 
we debris storms   list above and below 

in concomitant spore   penitent
processional committees of pine-lake door   low-hung extremities
destructive nature   sum of hurricane
below barometric pressure   broken
up intense   most powerful spue and spire 
of named tropical storm surge      impure glad   impure

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