Ten Poems by Neeli Cherkovski

high on the hill a white hand
made to look like a church
reaches furious clouds

deep in the fevered brain
jackhammers are made to smash
white walls, rough floors touch
windows darkly shuttered

faraway cormorants scream
priests tilt pious lances
against miraculous forest music

high in a melodious night
firecrackers blaze, transparent boys
throw magic arms into the air
as the handsome church bleeds

white blood flows downhill
until houses are drenched and
carnival voices shout their love