I Eat Poetry

Both of these are from Dan Bellm's book One Hand on the Wheel (The Roundhouse Press, 1999).

Hands

Here, scarred over nicely, is where the tip was sawed away -- Working
yourself down to bone there were bound to be accidents
in the tender places -- Here, the thumb of your right hand
got reattached, but at a slant: I like to imagine I feel
a lost tenderness coming to you again
as the tension drains from your fingers -- I mean, the life -- the two of us holding

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Consolation

Et expecto resurrectionem mortuorum,
et vitam venturi saeculi.

After I kiss his forehead lightly once
goodbye,

after the closing of the box,

where does his suffering go --
of course it's the Catholic heaven
he expects, the resurrection of the body
and the life of the world to come

but where does his suffering go --

I mean whatever of it
that is not part of me --

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