Poetry Month-April 4, 2024

Today is the birthday of three extraordinary women I know and love. It is also the day Martin Luther King Jr was assassinated. How strange these markers are. How can one day hold such a confluence of events? And yet the day we are born and the day we die hardly begin to determine the influence we have, whether it’s bringing soup to a neighbor or speaking on an international stage. These benign dates are simply nudges to remind us of how extraordinary it is to be alive. And yes, it’s also a fluke. A marvelous fluke of fate.

That’s what I’m thinking as I pull this strange booty from the altar box:


Sometimes, if you’re lucky, someone
comes into your life and
Upends it
Sometimes, if you’re lucky, she’s
an irreverent catholic
who can see through the
holy mist and call it
A cosmic joke
(it was the eighties, we lobbed balls at the cosmos)
“It’s a stor-reeeee, Linds-seeeeee,” she’d say.
If you could write a story about the universe and
make everyone obey you,
wouldn’t you do it?
Who cares if sales & marketing
slap ‘Bible’ on the front cover?
‘Testaments, Prophecies & Gospels’
was only a working title.