Our Foundation

We moved in, unsuspecting:
Proud husband, radiant bride,
1950s ranch with finished basement,
The American Dream incarnate.

Our first summer, it leaked a little,
And we played in the dirt around the siding,
Hoping to shore it up
Against the autumn rains ahead.

One October night, the sky burst overhead.
In the morning, we visited the ruins:
Soggy books, muddy carpet, ruined furniture,
The detritus of misplaced confidence.

Benedictus Sudorus (Sweaty Blessings)

We sing praise for treadmills,
For sweat-musk and fresh towels,
For supple sinews and solid bones,
For flexing cords of muscle,
For T-shirts redolent of last night's
Herbed chicken and sundrop cake.

We sing praise for rising blood,
For our sacred inner rhythm,
For easy-breathing lungs,
For sweat pooling on bald heads,
For the mysterious machinations
That keep us warm and spirit-filled.

We sing praise for clumsy joggers,
For bellies jiggling with each step,
For sudden, violent, wind-breakings,
For horrified stares from treadmill-neighbors,
For all the things that make us smile
Throughout our holy, wholly holey lives.