Rachel Loden


May and tornados, the usual cholera
loose among the choirboys. Sing

heigh, what sucking whorl blows by?
Only the huge sough of the body

politic, turning over
in its drooling, disappointed

sleep. Blessed is he
who leaketh the depositions

of the wicked; he hath convened
a new grand jury for Thy name's

sake. Plus the goat must die. Selah.
The dead witness eats dust

for your sins. And the Capitol is wet
with such a sweet and steady rain.