we shall all one by one Poem by antoine de kom

we shall all one by one
on our own day disappear
into black warm darkness.
you may play ten instruments
around your neck - when
the saints go marching in. saint
theresia of lisieux is a
mystery to me. somewhere in
the philippines someone asked
why it rains roses
rhythmically dancing like brown ladies
without thongs and clapping hands
on the altar of changing divine joy
into divine joy. roses that smell
pungently and sultrily make the nakedness
of their dance barer
than bare
descend on us.