By Travis Gouré

diagonal orders
of iris and dahlia
bending in the churchyard
where I remembered

how faintly I have dragged my feet through the blue hours, promising
to revive this terrific theater
if it’s the last thing I do

for I’ve wanted a part
in this lucky drama
for too long.

but what have I done?

protests in the style of prayer
and black vows

they were not enough to love you.

I’ve grown terrified
I may be captive
always to your most vacant territories,

for like the others can
I cannot riot for your heart.