Poems

ON THE COUNT OF THREE

On the count of three,

I tell him, take a

deep breath and hold it.

On the count of three

I do the same but

he doesn't know it.

On the count of three

everything boils down

to this one moment

in which I listen,

eyes closed, to his neck

for sound of movement,

the sound that comes from

liquid flowing not

smooth, but turbulent

while the eddies of

our previous breaths

dissolve around us.

EPLEY MANEUVER

In medicine

it's the closest we come

to exorcism:

placing unsoiled hands

on either side

of the patient's temples;

shepherding the head supine

toward the shoulder

with the afflicted ear;

confirming the presence

of a demon on that shoulder

by eyes possessed;

allowing said demon to

stir up trouble

for about a minute;

turning the cheek

a quarter circle

the other direction;

giving audience to

an angel there before rolling

further toward good;

ending upright

with a stone uncast,

free to turn again.