My Sad Stuff

Whatever can happen to anyone else

can apparently happen to me.

This is a revelation

an apocalypse

a mysterium

I should have uncovered

some time ago.

 

Like Aeschylus

I discovered

the unbidden tears.

I think he meant

the kind of tears

that wrack you with sobbing

at unexpected moments.

 

This morning a pastor was having child dedication

with a little boy

and a baby girl.

I’m glad post-modern churches

keep the congregants in the dark.

My shoulders shook

and

my eyes burned.

 

My sadness

is like the tears of

Aeschylus.

 

Who has been dead

a long, long

time.

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