When the bit of Grace
on the table
splays out and wide
it is imperative
to speak a prayer
a beseeching psalm,
a promise tryst.
When the bite of Grace
on my hand
brings blood to bear
it is insolence
to complain my cries
a simpering sob
a plaintive mist.
Why bite back
and spew my rage
and drag all manner
of backs to fore.
Why indeed
should I implore
redress and recompense
of lost to me.
copyright 2007 tammy melody gomez
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