After All, I Promised to Read St. Augustine
Megan Neville
True nuns infuse their pious infidelity into
kettles of abortion tea for anyone in need.
My father set out to raise a strong (but not
too strong) girl & by now I’ve scrubbed the enamel
from my teeth. It’s all in the elbow, you see? For closure
I need to ask a friend if we ever opened each other up,
but I don’t want to rend muscles in his chest again.
Most subway dust is human skin, specks of us crammed
in crevices like the togetherness everyone craves
but few will inconvenience themselves with. Alone
before her curtainless window my neighbor watches
Wheel of Fortune & disrobes to pose for nudes.
I’m confusing concupiscence & cornucopia again &
might as well indulge. I’ve thieved at least
a dozen pears but none have led to any god.