Sacred Heart
I confess I love Those statues you see In church foyers Of Christ pulling his chest apart To reveal his heart I always want to reach out And touch it Like Thomas slipping his finger Into the vaginal wound I imagine the heart covered In dust and chaff Like a trout on the bank He looks down at it Like someone just beginning To comprehend that They’ve been shot A better metaphor Than wearing your heart On your sleeve Just tear yourself open He seems to be saying Walk around like that