Friday, 2 March 2012

Who Only Stand and Wait

When I consider how my light is spent,
I think of all the windows and the doors
I’ve pounded on—raw knuckles, sore feet—the boards
And panes I’ve stood before unmoving and indifferent.
The waiting is as fevered and as bent
as a dream about a bony whore
who couldn’t give herself away for warmth.
I think about my talent, the one God sent
me with a shovel and a rocky field--
no seeds, no cache, no promise of a find,
no pledge that knocking leads to welcoming.
When god’s joke is night, the laugh is houses sealed,
Dead stones, the seething judgment of the blind:
They never serve who won’t let others in.

© Ana Garza G'z

Blinded policeman found dead
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Ana Garza G'z has an M. F. A. from California State University, Fresno. 35 of her poems have appeared in various anthologies and journals, with one forthcoming in The Mom Egg.

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