by Dorothea Lasky
The man who murders his wife
Is not the same as the man
Who goes around and murders a stranger.
I am a woman but I am not
The same as another woman.
Identity politics are bullshit.
There is only the smart and the evil,
The good and the righteous.
There is only one color on the earth.
In its infinite degradations it becomes music and mathematics.
There is shit on my hands
When I have been playing around with specifics.
Love your lover. You are a lover.
With each breath God has put a golden faith
Upon the snowy mountains of the world.
Here, look at the snowy mountains,
Glittering with snow.
They are wiser than you might think.
And in your soul, the small grey animals
Of the world sit and wait to do good
For you, and together
We are one thing, bleating a
Somber, scurrying lullaby to
Lapsing pinkish angels.
Upon a mountain
The angels smile sleepily as they stretch
Their very long legs, thinking of us.
And wise they might seem, us and the angels,
But really it is only God who is wise.
Last updated May 24, 2019