top of page

of a lesser faith

Ryan Crawford
4 hours ago
1 min read

By Ryan Crawford


move your scapular 

tongue to the rhythm 

of a fugue


the next time i 

won’t shudder a prayer

on pew-worn knees or


lead your gun

only moments

away

from that grand exit


when

she is burning and you

are alone


but not so un-American


and you can look at me

without only laughing 


for those couple seconds

when incensed bullets are between

newer lives


instead we can share a 

religion


what you would call a lesser faith


and burn newer charcoals

and rosary beads

and crucifixes 

and neophyte bullets


  our gun is already becoming a relic

Recent Posts

See All
Especially

By Shnayjaah Valentine Jeanty hospitals are a scam, according to daddy, ‘cause dying here is cheaper than asking for help, but his blood pressure might lower if i apply to med school. he doesn’t be

 
 
All at once

By Althea Downing-Sherer After Adrienne Rich I Chest burning Ascension from the riverbed The rain all at once Water makes curtains over the hips of scaffolding shielded by translucent she

 
 
Ancient Airs, Autumn Nights

What is lost and what is found. By Iris Eisenman In 1915, poet Ezra Pound published Cathay, a slim volume of English translations from Classical Chinese poetry. He did not speak a lick of Chinese. On

 
 
bottom of page