If our heart is the Father’s home
then I am heartily sorry that in my heart
the bed is left unmade
and the toothbrush is lying out on the counter
which is stained with the losses
of unknowable liquids
from uncountable cups
and the mirror is spotted and streaked,
the desk is a catastrophe of papers,
the chair squeaks,
the carpet goes stubbornly unvacuumed,
there are 5 messages on the answering machine
and the fridge is empty
except for margarine.

Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man
and why, why do you long to live in me?

Your heart is my home.

And I have let it fall
into such disarray.

My son, be not ashamed.

You deserve much better
than my persistent neglect.

Have you not chosen me?

Yes, Lord, every day—

And have I not chosen you?


This is day 5 of Labia Munda, a series of forty poems during the forty days of Lent. 

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