Ladders of Paradise
By Poetry Issue 107
do these monks with their straight lines / and right angles have the only franchise?
Read MoreThe Crypt of the Capuchins
By Poetry Issue 103
I am underground,
on a path through small rooms
lit only by delicate chandeliers
of finger and knuckle bones
wired together, shedding a soft
light on the group of worshippers
who tiptoe through.