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I had this wedding
dress,           in werewolf.
All day it slid
my ribs, a bath.
Not a warning.

We were married between
a sod house and
a gallows, these
places where gravity
swallows hardest.

Instead of attendants
we had as guests
each of the friends
who would have fucked
one of us.
They did not wear signs.

Other guests
took some            of my
relatives for tourists
and it was partly
this for which
I was grieving when I said my
vows.  The product of
a wedding in an old gold
mine. In a rigged
footrace where
every religion was made to
trip and skin its knee,
I saw which one cried,
but I am not allowed
to say.

Posted 12/20/09
Comments (2)
I think ending with "I am not allowed to say" resolves the gesture of comparing religions. No specific religion takes the fall or the "skinned knee" and even if it did it would be overshadowed by the notion of being silenced in one's own wedding. That is by far the more riveting element of the piece. At least for me. Meow.
04/16/10 6:17pm
Enjoyable but doesn't the last paragraph weaken it? The gold mine expanding to comparative religions to which of them can still cry over a skinned knee? I like the energy, just wished for more safety features. CE
12/27/09 11:32pm