Monday Morning, Early Meeting
I’ll create a religion this evening
to how I feel about sunrise
and sidewalks snaking like dead trees
through the horizon’s eaves.
I’ll baptize the events of making bread
evangelize a button and loose thread
fluttering—a tattered flag
in the hallways of a Sunday event.
I’ll move into the temple of my thoughts
into the music of my talk
as the subway car spins through
the apple’s core.
I’ll hear no sounds and see no bodies
only visualize the destination
of my prayers.