Rosary


Selfie of me in a zoom waiting room.

“‘Eyes must not witness the hideous aspect which the supreme being, with a smile of intense hatred, has granted me.’”
Lautréamont in Albert Camus, The Rebel


I think that bad luck finds me
like the tides follow the midnight moon,
a black cat keeps to a witch,
like maggots cling to rot.
My stomach is constantly churning and
I just can’t shake the feeling that
a rosary would burn right through my hands if I held it,
if you threw a cup at me,
the water would singe right through my skin.