catalog of punishments 

i thought lightning would strike me down
for everything that put on shoes
inside my head
when i sat in church-quiet.
i contemplated my wooden life.
welcomed my little 
stained glass thought experiments
that took me into boy mouths.
i want to try to unlearn 
my impulse towards punishment
but i'm unsure what will
be left of myself. i saw a car
being towed away & i thought
"now we are safe." we stood outside
wreckage of homes newly burned down.
i understand why we interpret entropy 
as castigation. deeply i want
there to be a reason why i crashed my car.
sitting on the side of the road
head newly bursting with roses. 
i thought, "please please
please." god of lamp posts.
god of windowsills. i step into my life
& ask for a catalog of everything
i will do wrong & what will follow.
no such sipher exists. there is just me
& the lightning. me & the stoplight.
standing in the sacristy 
as an altar child helping a priest
put on his vestments. my body 
is a peach. a clementine. then, a knife. 

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