As soon as I wake up, I think
of his body
ice cold and brittle,
stoney, plastic-wrapped,
naked and raw in a freezer
drawer until tomorrow
when they push him in an oven
and broil my brother
as if he were corned brisket.
It will take four hours, after all
he’s still a hulk.
But tomorrow he’ll be warm again,
heat will rise from him again,
a flash in him again,
he will glow--and that moment
when he gives off the light
of a saint at the stake,
that moment of glory,
will be the highlight
of my day.
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