Monthly Archives: October 2014

Fruit

The Speech  
by Eirene Henderson

I just want to thank God,
my mom,
Cat Stevens,
Angela Lansbury–
Angela, you’re a goddess–
I never could have done this without any of you.

An immense thank you to the makers of Citalopram,
and of course the gang over at Lindor Chocolates–
you know I love you–

And most of all, thank you to my fans.
All five of you.

It’s been a long road, but, you know,
because you all believed in me,
here I am today.

Showered. Wearing a bra.
Sitting on this porch
under the bright light of an
an afternoon sun.

Canon in D, Now A Flat
by Eirene Henderson

Firm, they were, but soft and round.
Like a peach
a few day before you can
Sink your teeth
into its fuzzy flesh.

And the alert, intrepid, little
bull’s eyes used to
stare ahead
with defiance

Now, they look down
at my body incredulously
as if to ask
“What the hell happened here?”

And the fruit has been enjoyed
by man and child alike.
Sucked down to its
withered, wrinkled pit.

bra

God

We are connected.  I recently walked through New York City and felt the collective beating, pulsing base of millions of heartbeats.  Living, breathing in air recycled through lungs and leaves.  All living things dependent on each other. In the grit my darkest parts felt warmth. God’s white, hot light is so much bigger than I can and will conceive in my lifetime.  And in this hugeness of God—expanse beyond expanse—there is hope that we all fit, that there is room for all of us.  But also, that we can feel the collective beating hearts inside.  When I listen.  When I pay attention. God is not something out there.  She is my child next to me. He is the man on the corner.  God walks with me on dirty streets.

NY