i met a man just today, he says these people,
these columns, these pillars of faith, they form the face of god.
i'm not sure what he means when he says he's saved,
when he scratches his name across a cocktail napkin, when he draws a cross
he says there are no more martyrs, he says the son of man, he shows
the way he sacrificed.
i met a man with a touch of sanity.
he mirrors the way i sit in my chair, brushing his hair from his face
and twirling the long whiskers of his chin,
he says these glasses, these frozen cubes, they're from the remnants of faith,
i'm not sure what he means when he says we can't all be saved,
or that the cause had died, championless, he mimes an invisible noose,
and slices his hands through the air, he says we can't all be the sons of men,
we can't all be martyrs.
i met a man with a better grasp.
he says he lost his ability to express when he became a man,
curling a fist around a photograph of a woman,
he says these artifacts don't even seem like moments anymore,
i'm not sure what he means when he says he takes her out to stare at the eclipse,
or which night he means when he says it's his last,
and throws his glass across the room, he says we can't all go on alone,
but he can't go any other way.
i met all this pillars
i met this community
i met these men
but i'm not sure which is which