JOSEPH, AFTER THE ANNUNCIATION
Were my eyes blindfolded? Now I pace,
The tongues of sawdust lick my ankles
And snails crawl on sawed boards.
The red bedsheets in our separate rooms
have turned pale.
What used to be my life
is now stripped naked.
In the future, I'll wear a black cape
over my face.
I, who have read many books, will be
Spoken of as simple-minded,
obedient saint.
I'll keep paying the rent,
try not to think
About the rich man who lives
in white stone house,
Where Mary worked as housekeeper.
If I were French, I would drink much absinthe.
Duane Locke
Posted over on Storymania
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