praise of folly

praise of folly 

dilly-dally 

on the stairs, 

hopscotch your way

one step, 

two steps, 

three steps above. 

gaze into the

ceiling, 

with its plaster clouds 

and charcoal streaks,

can you see god 

up there?

do his dirt-speckled

stars warm your face?

well,

you need not pray,

with your 

languid eyes shut, 

lips stumbling 

out of time--

a communion 

you can't hold. 

tilt up your face,

American dream, 

hear the angels sing,

anointing your 

sun-kissed skin, 

dripping nectar 

down your 

eagle's nose.

come closer, 

let me paint your lips

with the 

blood of my own--

little fledgling, 

smile,

won't you make them proud?