Forget about frocks and sacraments, if you would
for a moment shake the vestments, the wafers, martyrs and saints
and rejoice instead on the preponderance of we who would ponder,
who know that simply to ponder is a privilege pervaded by what constitutes God.
© Chagall 2014
She said there appeared to be
far too many, more than she’d ever
imagined there would be.
And whether she spoke of souls or stars,
we’ve agreed to be not certain.
Our pact proclaims that the exclamation
in and of itself
is enough.
In free fall
she the poet loses
her punctuation –
sublimely, she surrenders
a pliable palladium who drops her guard
to sweeter moments, rocks away slowly – certainly slower
when she’s asked to hesitate and think on the upbeat prior the bar.
And baby
still smokes.
© Chagall 2014
Alphabet City 