last night I read a poem in a book, by buddy wakefield.
it was called gospelstitch.

here are the four seattle based poets performing gospelstitch in really bad quality four years ago at a grand slam.

and here are the words that held me most:

our prayers come
from the ground up.

'cause everybody's got voices
and everybody's got some they can't contain
like my need to be redeemed
at any time
in any place.

So you can bring on your boogieman loading his fuss
and gunning his fattening desire
'cause we've got bees on flowers
with honey on hold
for those made of gold
but wrapped in wires
who keep themselves inspired
by the way they feel their spines
screaming, sparkling gods
who gotta live by the way they shine.

we pray until our words run out,

and Yours,



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