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Angry Young Man by Raphael Maurice

I dropkicked the Holy Book before the morning Mass.
You don’t, barring dreamless sleeps & drugs,
tend to believe all of that yourself. Don’t give yourself a pass.

Even Scott, who’d trained me how to serve
high & low, gasped when the tassels flew out
like rainbow-birds, leaving the oil-slick pages open

& somehow sad upon the church’s floor. Look, my future.
We draw from the wells of common language,
from King James to Playboy. We salvage, rummage, high & low.

Tonight, in this paper-thin hotel, countless bits
rapidly come back. But I do not, save through the Spirit’s breath,
let go of the image of that volatile book—

now dead inside a drawer, the night painfully long,
or how it went flying out, a priest entering
just as Scott scooped it up, dusted it off,
closed it just in time, & put it back as the bells tolled

Raphael Maurice is a poet, translator, and teacher.  He resides in Washington, MO where the river keeps its secrets.

2 Comments on Angry Young Man by Raphael Maurice

  1. Annie Seyle (Spear) // February 28, 2017 at 18:50 //

    Hey hey, Annie Seyle (Spear now), I was in your dad’s French class, I wasn’t any good at French but I liked your dad. I also like your writing. I don’t know if I can “follow” you or anything but I’d like to read more. I live in Arkansas now and busy myself with things like not fitting in, being a disappointment to my family, and writing a blog about life in this different world. If you’re bored one day you can read it at arkansasisyourkansas.blogspot.com. We could be writing buddies. Keep up the good writing, I’d like to read more. And tell your dad hello and I still think fondly of him.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. great work

    Liked by 1 person

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