It Doesn't Matter Who My

Emerald As Heavy As A Golf Course, Ruby As Dark As An Afterbirth, Diamond As White As Sun On The Sea.

For Forty Days, For Forty Nights Jesus Put One Foot In Front Of The Other And The Man He Carried, If It Was A Man, Became Heavier And Heavier.

Bless All Useful Objects, The Spoons Made Of Bone, The Mattress I Cook My Dreams Upon, The Typewriter That Is My Church With An Altar Of Keys Always Waiting.

I Am Younger Each Year At The First Snow. When I See It, Suddenly, In The Air, All Little And White And Moving; Then I Am In Love Again And Very Young And I Believe Everything.

I Brush My Hair, Waiting In The Pain Machine For My Bones To Get Hard, For The Soft, Soft Bones That Were Laid Apart And Were Screwed Together. They Will Knit. And The Other Corpse, The Fractured Heart, I Feed It Piecemeal, Little Chalice. I'm Good To It.