Let’s say you’re a bridge operator Mother lectures
you lift for ships lower for trains I’m the only one
in first grade when your son catches his coat
in the gears whose fingers form the Vulcan sign
for live long and prosper you must drop the bridge
and crush him so I make little spring bunnies
saving hundreds by dipping my hands in paint
Mother says a Witness is chased by soldiers
as self-punishment for forgetting they symbolize
Easter there’s a river too wide to cross I walk
barefoot through thistles yet he says “Jehovah”
stand in the dark basement for hours and leaps
to safety the clouds thunder whoever sins
against Him will be erased from the book
