Illumination of the Martyrdom of St. Bartholomew

from the dried hide of calves

carved & sewn in quires

they bend & tend to him / as if

tailors or healers & not rending

skin from limb / their eyes

narrowing knives / he balances

naked on ankle / a single

arm aloft as if in flight

from body’s scything / O wholly

gold-haloed & yet-membered head

soothe the eye in which I am

thrown / hand without shield /

scissored out hymn / & if

the body’s flayed & displayed

in human palms / & human skin

scrolled open / the body still dances

& if the flesh is the text

of God / bid a voice to rise /

& rise again