Evenings News Report

 

fleeing the sage one


man, be careful, get away

from that holy person, run

when you see that woman saint

with the great white skirts

like sails.


she hides the broken animals

in that billowing. when she walks,

the crippled pup

hops with her, wailing with small

voice, and there with her in the dark

you see tiny eyes gleaming

like nails.


flee the rabbi, his pain-ridden

voice. in his gray beard

rustles the baby bird, the hurt finch

and the sparrow with the smashed wing.

his black coattails are tents

where the kittens crawl sideways,

calling to him, dark mother.


run from that mad pitying,

those bodies are not whole,

their chests are burst, there are rents

in the bone, nothing is left

but crying.


if you are bolted to the place

under a tree to hear mewing

from tiptop twig,

if you shake to hear the yammer

of a frightened beast that the hawklike

cloud is swooping,

then don’t go near that temple.

man of true feeling, woman of truth,

those chirpings will undo you.


turn away from faces

of buddha and christ; move the picture

of moses aside. let them look

in a different direction.

don’t regard even their backs,

don’t notice whether the space

around them glows, where there is light

on those walls.


           — george bailin



Sample Poem



Written by George Bailin

Editedanddesigned by DarylBailin

Published by SeaportPoets&WritersPress

FirstEdition1984, SecondEdition2014


Available in print and pdf format from:

Seaport Poets & Writers Press, P.O. Box 298, Harriman NY 10926-0298

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