Nicole Flaherty Kimball, Baby’s Self-Portrait in the Dark, 2022
Acrylic on canvas
only now do i—a full grown man—recognize
the violence that lives in praise: the feral dance
that erupts from bones, possessed, while i try to kill
a roach. surveilling the refuge beneath my bed, its frame
raised on crates, i curse the ground that’s close enough
to kiss. i plead with my cat to earn his keep—he’s of no
help whatever—my mattress, suddenly, a rostrum.
but i’m in no place to lead: my pagan life is threatened
by a spindly copper pest. i shout-whisper to the ceiling
the serenity prayer plying my tongue like a split oar
to invoke a bloodless conquest. my cat, too, is crying
for relief—from hunger, heat, or the varmint, now
at hard-won peace, i can’t tell. i lean my head against
cool tiles, burning O Lord, find me—discover me like fire.