Faith
David Goldstein
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He grabbed me by the throat
and shook
We were left turning
He on his poetic cloud
I with my bony feet stretched out
We kicked each other
below us the grass shook
in the breeze of crows
hunting low for spoilage
Trees their tops at eye level
burst with eyeless blossoms
their branches licked by fire
I'd met him on the sidelines
of a fight
It was dark
and He came out of nowhere
rooted for neither side
impartially lifted the loser
to his knees
We hung in a standoff
Our arms in chokeholds
around each other
but since He was omnipotent
and I was out of shape
it was natural that He should let go
It was not the impossible
force of that hand
like a car the moment before
you are hit by it
but after the hand was gone
and I was still dangling
out of nothing and into nothing
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David Goldstein lives in New York City.
Image: James Turrell
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