JULY 31st!

“Would all the antiheroes here please raise their hands?”
hands?"

Crickets in the audience.

Then slowly from the pew,hard
as rock and home to gum
stuck in the netherworld of rules,
lift the exquisite miraculous grasping machines
that make us human & too often not.

Soon a little copse of trees resembling arms
held high beneath the yellow stained-glass sky
of the quaint parochial one-room church-house
invites with cool shade a summer contemplation
to stretch across the rolling moss that gathers
no damnatory stones; to lie face up & dream.

And there you have it, folks: a soul
at peace with being saint, warts and all
that jazz you never hear
emitted from the upright tailpipes
of dusty organs. If you sit real still a bit
of a party could break out in the choir
loft because at those altitudes heads
screwed on tight go a touch giddy, thank God.

What do you get when you cross a soldier
with a lover, a neurotic (we all are), an over-achiever,
and a compulsive introspector?: 
A faithful far-out almost fabulous  
anrihero
whose purest superpower is unstoppable prayer