From “Anagrams” [xxxi]

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

+++++++++++++
+++++++++++++
+++++++++++++
+++++++++++++
+++++++++++++
+++++++++++++
+++++++++++++
+++++++++++++
+++++++++++++
+++++++++++++
+++++++++++++
+++++++++++++
+++++++++++++
+++++++++++++

Oh, that Thou teach even me. I who abhor truth, the stubborn bloodhound. Worth three hairbrushes, if that. No: hydrogenated fats. No: enhanced form- aldehyde. What shorthand thunderbolt could halt my hibernation & dog thirsts? The unabridged refrigerator, the unnoted cheese board. Heh. Shortlist me with the redundant heathen, half my covenant with toothache. Foot the noun. Whatever it takes. Lord, have mercy. Gospodi po- miliu. Kyrie eleison.

Notes:

This poem is part of a larger sequence. You can read the rest in the June 2016 issue of Poetry.