I Do not Think the Boy
| I do not think the boy will ever leave me, But if he does, I’ll sleepwalk through the rest Of time with Holy God’s dark rosary In hand and fumble beads to make the best Of days and nights and years and decades lost To numbness in the chambers of the heart, The seconds, minutes, hours that he’ll have tossed Away, abandoning my love. I’ll dart From Christtoboozetootherboystotarts, To Poetry of Wisdom for the Church, To working with a peasant on farm carts. If all else fails, I’ll have my absinthe perch. ..I’ll lose my hair. I’ll hold on to my faith. ….I’ll die, if death’s permitted for a wraith.
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