Georgetown Poems (5)
The suburbs are sad as death
the university slumps on its arse
money dreaming of money.
Washington DC, a whitewashed sepulchre
awaits the diggers of history
side by side, tombs, slums, imperial empathy.
Amid all this
the transfixed tourists
the international pimps
the wheelers and dealers
rolling along like chariot wheels of fate
the faces like faces on dollars—
amid all this
did one original mind
cry out a gospel verse
panic in the streets!
the unbearable halo
of resurrected Christ!
From Daniel Berrigan, And the Risen Bread; Selected Poems, 1957–1997 (1998).
Dan Clendenin: firstname.lastname@example.org