Joseph Crowe Poetry

At first, I thought him monstrous -

horny, scruffy beard, hairy loins:

All the details I was taught to hate.

But under the shade of his leather wings,

I found relief warm and infinite, embracing

without shame, without the thought of sin.

This chain around my neck can be removed

anytime I choose. With it, he protects me from

the tyranny of grace, the heavy shadow of the cross.

I grow curving horns like him, a tail

bursting with self-produced flames or fruit,

whatever desire plants in me.

For, I've learned, desire's seeds,

whether dark or light are Life itself,

blooming in all its bright, disfiguring glory.