Prayer for our Church at Guernica

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Prayer for our Church at Guernica


On the slick edge of weather
we hit the wall
steering column crushes chest
pierces sternum

air bag deploys late
abrading face
and snapping neck

children unbelted and unconscious
frozen askew
mucus like mildew forms at their nostrils
blood and lunch and feces pool in the seat

ghosts and souls hover,
not yet ready to leave

beneath the wreck they lick battery acid,
brake fluid and antifreeze, or lie back on
the hood like a coat of paint,
watching the autumn clouds roll in
and the sun set

It looks like the planning commission and
construction crew failed to properly deploy
the blinking orange barrels and iridescent
arrows marking the way

fines double in work zones
slow the hell down

Some say it's a failure of the anti-lock braking system.

As is so often the case these days - we blame it on it -
the several levels of plausible deniability.
We blame it on IT - info tech - a typo in a line of code
glued to a chip set - no one's fault.

Well, someone always takes the blame and the
insurance company sends us the bill.

Whatever the case, we're on our own and
bleeding out.

In the distance getting closer are the twin sirens
of the attorneys and the conflict resolution team
followed by a busload of assholes and the
medical examiner.

Dear God,

Bulldoze this stretch down to the granite,
scratch our names in shiny stone,
and make it rain the manna of fresh soil, seed
and the perfect complement of
wind, sun and rain.

Amen

DLW
Labor Day 2010
4:04 a.m.



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© David L. WHite