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Beginnings and Ends

A cranky sea lion barks.
Blow-by wave spume
tickles my skin.
Stubborn fog retreats
until chilly nightfall
and sullenly waits.

It's the old century's
final hours.
We pull ourselves
through ceanothus and mustard,
silvery herbs,
stand above crimson stone
watching scrap-paper gulls.

Below,
rocky crone eyes protrude
from twitching blue surf.
Foam breakers bluster ashore.
Scum ribbons snake
past the edge of this world.

We climb toward the sun,
leaving any known trail.

Family Dinners

God is thinking about me and eating me…Tomaz Salamun


During Sunday mass,
we fidgeted on hard pews,
light-headed from overnight fasting,
dizzy and suffused with delusions
of impending grace.

We bargained with God,
admitted our failures.
With bent heads, we knelt,
offered trembling tongues
for a piece
of the sacrificed Christ.

Family dinners continued
the repentance theme.
Mom served
fried onions and tough liver,
a hungry child's
crown of thorns.

Her "eat three bites or
sit all night" rule
taught me
to swallow
without fuss
everything I was told.

Later, I tortured myself
for giving in,
poked a finger down my throat
and rejected it all
as I obstinately purged.

© All Copyright 2001. Jennifer Lagier.
All Rights Reserved. Printed By Permission.