contents
marty turco
blood red lips
chalk birds
where's my richard?
grave robbing
martyrdom
rejections |
The Futility of Martyrdom
Deweyville, Ohio
by
Marianna
Hofer
The
Deweyville Church of God has
a doghouse out back next to
the swingset and sagging pickup.
When the minister lost
interest, the congregation sold
the church out from under him.
Now the new owners live
in the basement while out front
the glass cased sign reads ‘Will
You Be Ready?’ I suspect
the minister wasn’t.
Bob’s trailer in Deweyville
keeps secret his exotic
patterned garden out back.
Greens, pinks, yellows,
oranges, reds, simmer in
exact design, exact desire.
One path escapes back under
the willows, showers of
drapey branches, leaves
yellow green in the hazy sun.
You boost yourself
into the larger of
the trees, confess
halfway up you’ve never
climbed before as branches
crack. I flinch and swear
when you put a foot to
the wrong one. Finally
you settle down above me
in a solid fork.
For once I don’t want
to follow you, saved only
by a healthy fear of heights.
Barefoot penitent, I stand
below you, hopeful this time
you’ll forget my sin of
admission, realize as I do
I could be yours. But
like too many mystics, you just
climb down, walk back up
to the party, leave me broken
branches no longer useful
for much of anything.
Marianna Hofer
has Studio 13 in the Jones Building, a turn
of the
century office building, in downtown Findlay, OH. Her poems have
appeared in a variety of small magazines, and her black and white
photographs have hung in a variety of local exhibitions and eateries.
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