It Is What Happens Poem by GORDON GILHULY

the emptiness of night
concave
ever pushes against him

realism is the art of seeing the crucifixion for what it really is
leaving
it is what happens

a handful of nails
is all that we are allowed
there is no other preparation

her face averted in the doorway
a vase of roses broken on the tile floor
a nail betrays him in every room of her house

yesterday's allegory becomes today's axiom
it is what happens
when we do not read between the lines