Sunday Poem

A Total Non-apology
Speaker 4

Don’t ask my view of humankind, of God.
We’re eddies in the ocean mind of God.

I grin from yearbook pages, bright as pins
and primed to prick the fat behind of God.

O Holy Father, how can I revere you?
You suck the pulp and spit the rind of God.

Spices, rhinos, coffee-coloured bodies:
all dust beneath the awful grind of God.

I won!
……… Then she jujitsu-spun my head
and locked me in the double-bind of God.

It breaks my brickwork, howls through my walls,
the incoherent undefined of God.

Who scaled the spire of the abandoned church,
spray-painted All Is God, and signed off —God?

by Rachel Briggs
from Rattle #50, Winter 2015