God, be kind---evil I've been---

Thoughts today so foul

Resigned to greet with smiling

---Induced, instead, to growl---

My solitude is stripped

Impelled to heave the granite

Till my fingers bloody

---Flesh ground to knuckle-white---

Bent head low to pretorians

For the hyssop branch

But could not taste the honey

For the bitter vintage.

Perhaps it is a punishment

For my iniquities.

I drag the nameless headstone shut

---Terra falling from above---

Fran Hinkle


Author's Notes/Comments: 

I wrote this because of
my recent circumstances
during the past four months: The threat of homelessness, the reality
of eventually becoming homeless, and the results
of the decisions I had
made; the stress of the
changes that have accrued
as a result of it all.

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