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Back Homefor my father, BobFar back in the field is a sanctuary with a ceiling that exposes our childhood of cracking open the hymnal for perfect song scattered with old women's voices that no longer care if they are perfect. Their sanctuary has moved into their closed throats and we as children or men can only photograph the pristine child of a church that is remembered from far back in the growing open to see the sky or what we imagine as sky if Michelangelo had anything to do with our calculating, the worship would come home and rest within reach as immediately as opening a door or cracking open the hymn that resides in the rock and roll man, the idol that we teach to our children who run through the field and the sky opens to their sound and all is perfect. |
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Issue #13, January, 2000 :
Santa Fe Poetry Broadside.