Prayer Pieces



                        I know a prayer position
                        and pieces of poems;
                        a thousand bits of dry, paper-thin gold
                       and sticks.
                             –  from Emily Dobson’s “I Have Come Simply”

Your body lies folded in
daffodils, folded
into the highway, the city. 

We’ll go to New Orleans,
a foggy suitcase and the long road.
When they wake you, I will know
your face, a clove of spun sugar,

sand and ribbons; your skin, 
a song to the kneeling sun,
a song of blood and stone: 

a bedpost angel cast down
the man I admire most: 
– the blazing father
             takes the middle son, 
                       gives the only-ghost.



An Easter Homily in Los Angeles



as usual, a siren

I sort through buzzfeed: red, winter, Targaryen
pirate, Buddhist, honey

there’s traffic from the stadium
a podcast about Christ as metaphor

I could have walked away

suddenly so still
his emaciated body
the tremble against my chest
a simple breathing

a year ago, I gave up tarot

we follow a lovers’ script
say, I felt you
hurt me I felt
you let me fall

we will name a son Oberon
a daughter, Lily
you are singing through the wall
it sounds like violin,
like chain-linked fence

this is harbinger, a veil
and a regimen for succulents

I will wear my hair down
this is where water was

split and concrete, a ravine
and sirens and shards



Sherre Vernon lives in Los Angeles, California. Her poetry has been published in over a dozen literary journals, including Ars Medica, The Coe Review, Fickle Muses, Eclipse and The Pedestal Magazine. Green Ink Wings, her postmodern novella, won the 2005 chapbook award from Elixir Press. In 2008, The Name is Perilous, a poetry chapbook, appeared in the final publication of the journal Ruah.