May 2011 - Comments Off

Idolatry

Crystal Barrick '11
         a gloss after Elizabeth Gilbert

Not all my prayers beseech you—
on the widest nights I’ve tied

a wire to a tin can, swung for the neck
of the nearest shining idol and howled

so proud. I needed answers right then
and no, not you nor the moon have ever

spoken down; not to me.
I am not ashamed

of a man’s teeth on my ear, his cold,
slick arms as he uncarefully

removes all doubt. I pull his brass hand
onto my thigh, and I

let it stay there, because I asked
him a question and he answered

it quickly. If devotion is diligence
without assurance, no—

I can never wholly worship you.


About the Author: Crystal Barrick '11 studies literature, education, and the fine art of fixing things.

Published by: in Poetry, Volume 67: Issue 2

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