Tumors

But the hand of the Lord was heavy

...and smote them with emerods

—1 Samuel 5:6

When Philistines stole the Hebrews’ ark

Abducting their tablets, dragging them off

Hostages held in heathen hands, their scoffs

Howled louder than a pack of jackal barks

Soon, though, their fingers spread the marks

Of thievery:  On their faces, splotches

Pustules, gleet; even in their crotches

Crabs and lice like rats and mice, each bite a spark

Of fire. 

And what of my past larcenies?

A chocolate bar, a marijuana plant

A kiss, a joke my father told, a called catch

In center field.  What’s my curse for these?

What’s my penalty?  This itching, constant

Itching—and so I scratch and scratch and scratch

Relief, 2008