poem ending with a line from another poet

I do not want the skies to open

again & the Writ to sift down

like dust from a mill. It settles

nothing, as I said to our neighbor

the infidel before firing

into the air. We were getting married,

our daughter to his son, & showing

our teeth. My house is your house-

hold now, he said, & I almost wept

with rage. Let us pray together,

I should’ve offered, give thanks

for nothing, for prayers

ignored & virtues

made compulsory, & therefore

meaningless. There is no God

but God, & I’m still His faithful

cur, charged with the hard work

of making people happy.


[Poetry Thursday – dead link]

Thanks, January!

To read other responses to this week’s challenge, go here.


  1. Clash of cultures. I like the uneven pace and wording in this poem.


  2. Wow! You’ve taken my line and made it all your own. I love the tension in the poem, lines like “wept with rage” stay with me.

    And I agree what’s already been said, the pacing suits the poem.

    Nice take on the prompt!


  3. Confound-it!

    You really take “happy” to the mat here.


  4. showing / our teeth – I like that a whole bunch.
    Wonderfully frustrated poem, like a bulldog shaking a squirrel. Well done, Dave.


  5. That was utterly FABULOUS. The blending of the final line was seamless. Fantastic. :)


  6. Forceful energy in this poem, you can really feel the tension rising, loved the line “wept with rage.”


  7. (Thanks, all. I’m away from home for a few days and not on my own computer, so my comments will be sparse here even though blog posts continue to appear automagically.)


  8. Hi all – I’m a little abashed at all the comments this thing garnered. I almost like it now myself! But I think I’ll still file it under “interesting exercise.”

    Thanks to everyone for stopping by.


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