palm sunday 

you tell me that there's
people who make their whole
living off of growing palms
for palm sunday &
orthodox palm sunday

the two days are only
a week apart but apparently 
the orthodox 
follow a different calendar

it would be fun
to try another calendar
for a year or so--

to pretend that we could
have christmas in august 
when everyone needs
a god to arrive--

the sweating nativity--
easter eggs scattered in the
gnat-like snow of january--

our new years born plastic 
& pink 

i looked it up &
you were right
about the men with
great big knives down
in florida-- 

slicing off
stacks of palm leaves
just for that one sunday

hoisting their boys on
their shoulders--

he says 
"we do the best we can
for jesus christ"

& the palms lay like
lay themselves
down like the bones of
priests in catacombs--

like eye lashes--

this article i read
said jesus came into
jerusalem triumphantly

but i like to think of
him as scared--

gripping the hairs 
on a donkey's back--

& then he sees the palms--
the people laying down their
clothes-- the palms
falling like snow
his father had only
told him stories about--

did he know he would someday
be born in the snow?

i imagine it was the palms
that got him ready to
die-- 

i know if i were
going to get crucified that
i'd want some sort of display--

the gathering space
at saint mary's church where
8 years old sister kathleen 
peels off a branch for me--

i took my brother's so that
i could play with two
as jesus himself
opened the big
wooden doors of the church--

monsignor clearing his
throat to read from
the book of matthew as
i fixated on the palms--
attempting to weave 
a cross but mostly just 
twisting the sinews of
the plant--

you tell me that you're not
sure why people are catholic
if they don't like going
to mass 

& i re-assure you 
that i'm not catholic 

even though i can say 
to some degree that
i do actually like
going to mass--

it's not the actual
words-- it's the comfort
of repetition--

the knowledge that 
there will be one day 
every year where 
they hand us palms
at the door--

maybe that my calling--

down in the south
packing palm leaves
to ship across the country--

i take off my shirt--
sit down for
a second as the sun
lilts like a
Eucharist host--

bless myself &
open my mouth 
to receive it--

burning as it drips
down my throat--

i cut another sack of
leaves--

oh, did you hear?

jesus is arriving on
the back of a donkey--

arriving arriving 
always 
arriving