Mark Zegarelli
Mark Zegarelli


God grant me a talisman, some charm

To rest my trust in. Somewhere to fall

When I fall in endless failing. The night

Pours in pain from out there

Anguished pleas seep in, and there is no

Barricade in this world to stop the flow.

No membrane between. Among all, only all

Brothers, sisters equally fortuned. Why

And where does all this stuff our lives

Consist of come from? This crap -- I tried

To throw it out but there it is back again.

In here, out there, and everywhere I go.

It follows I'm its source. Is this my true desire,

Sickness, nature? If so, by whose decision?

Enough -- I want out. I can't stand the accumulated

Hatred of the years, what I've become, where I've been

Lost. Enough -- you've shown me true signs, more than most,

Enough to last a lifetime. But this detail you've thrown

me to -- that it's true isn't enough, any more

Than water exists suffices for a thirst.

I can't forge my own touchstone, only search

The landscape for some living testament to mercy:

One that won't fall dead when everything is dry.