The Gargoyles Return

This fixation with grotesques’ gross-weight stone
Began with bog and marsh, the search for mired
Delight in clean disgust; rock slime swallowed
By rain-swelled creeks, ooze beading black plates of shale.

In time I took bullet-like between the eyes,
Familiar as scum-skimmed ponds of mossy rock,
The guttural spirits perched in pictures of
Notre Dame, Chartres, Grand Central Station . . .

Fanged and ogling theologians, these—like
Salon stalagmites built up from stone’s drip
Into bodies of beautiful ugliness—
Have hampered nothing in me for my quest:

The dizzy apocalypse of their return
Steeped in malevolence—like ashen crows—
Like gravity’s own loci genii—
They stare down the rain from plinths and parapets.

Joseph O'Brien

Joseph O’Brien lives on his rural homestead in Soldiers Grove, WI with his wife Cecilia. Together they are having the time of their lives raising hell with their eight children: Barbara, Seamus, Bernadette, Norah, Liam, Anastasia, Mara Naomi, and Lucy. He is currently working as staff writer for The Catholic Times, newspaper of the Diocese of La Crosse, WI.

Previous
Previous

After

Next
Next

Instructions for Waking