empty vessel

open up
one semi-lucid
child-proof cylinder
at a time.
count the contents by twos
like elephants and zebras and snakes
shuffling up the plank
into the belly of salvation.
no need to wait
for the white dove of peace
to coo us to sleep
while gently stroking us
with his olive branch,
brushing away
the impurities of the day
until the sun burns us awake,
highlighting every scratch
left behind by the rough bark.
instead we croon our own lullabyes
and create our own comfort
by calculating how many pairs
the vessel might hold
before sinking into oblivious waters.
10.30.04
6.12pm

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