At times, forcing a poem
is synonymous with forcing a prayer.
At such times, you wished you didn’t care
so much about words’ meanings, sounds.
How do you turn off that voice
that dams your attempted stream
of language aimed toward meaning,
aimed toward the word divine?
How to rid the water of branches,
of tree trunks, of the fetid mud?
Oh, for a season of rain, of floods
to overpower all that is stagnant.
Oh, for a loss of control, that overpowers
everything in its path, that slows the hours.