sauna prayers

sauna door clicks shut

birch water ladled

over volcanic rocks

heat rises

edging on unbearable

the tired monk

thinks of poems

as he soaps his head

razor slicks foam

slides on sweat

smooth and renewed

steam and prayers escape

via the tiny door crack

up through barren branches

and white pine needles

one road over

the road is straight

just off a divided highway

past suburbs

butted up against

working farms

through a little village

down past a cemetery

a horse farm or two

then some open 

wind swept fields

the road narrows

the pavement stops

gravel and rutted dirt

right up to

a rusted dead end sign

keep going

the road dwindles

to a winding path

almost overgrown

under a tarp

by a cedar fence

a small red canoe

I push it out 

into the creek

paddle a few strokes

drift with the mallards

secrets from the deep

secrets

sure I got 'em

a little spell ago

I pulled them up 

from the deep morass

slathered in canal muck

I hosed them off 

took a look

poked them with a barge pole

watched as they dripped

black guck, and slime

on the boardwalk

and slowly dried

I kicked them 

hard 

back into the murk

sinking down

past bicycles

knives, guns, empty bags

and litter

...so much litter

to rest 

still

on the bottom

forever

 - for the record:

I'm very much pro surprise and very anti secret. 

church

nursing a slight hangover

in the back pew

boozy spirits waft

amidst some mumbled

yet earnest prayers

only one mid-sermon nip

from a battered flask

last hymn fades

jacket, scarf, and Irish cap

on quick

  a quicker exit out a side door

a short brisk lonely walk home

too Christian for the world

too worldly for the Christians