It was a terrible rebellion
I rebelled against a sentence
between her legs
I punished myself with a holiday
I took a ghost to bed
and caught the seed in the palm of my hand
Her green cotton dress was pulled up
She sat on my face all night long
She dragged me to Jerusalem
and married me over and over
while the silver star of Bethlehem
coughed and spat
in a smoker’s reveille
and the priesthood forced me to resume
my old domestic conversation