Irreverent Poem by Barry Middleton

Divinity must live within herself:
Passions of rain, or moods in falling snow...
From Sunday Morning
by Wallace Stevens


on Sunday mornings I listened
to the painful dreariness of reverence
dreaming of evil Saturday midnight

thus I was pulled, wish boned
to the point of psychotic break
in what to give and what to take

my father is to blame
he claimed the forest
was his church, and it was clear
whiskey was his holy alter wine

I thank the divinity of mother's genes
the whiskey was too strong
but still the forest beckons

I sorted it out despite
the double bind
that those consumed by lust
do not go blind

I sorted it out and found
divinity within my mind
no agnostic ghost at all
it is in me, the waters
birds and rain and snow
it is within my joy and grief