Volume II Archive

Richard Kenney

Pilgrim in San Giorgio

The church (apparently chiuso)
In the shadow of the Palatine
Opens up, it seems, for whoso-
ever kneels and makes the sign:

A pilgrim penetrates. We follow,
Clack clack on cosmatesque.
The gloam is palpable. The fellow
Disappears. We peer. Now tsk--

A sudden blink in a black cowl--
Match-light in the apse, wherein
Mosaics radiate the wall
Like transuranic reptile skin.

The saint is perfect stillness, dressed
To kill; his lance is candle-quick;
The dragon is a crumpled mess
All roly-eye and giblet-slick.

But now the pilgrim, too, implodes
Pale as cardiac arrest:
Spins, staggers toward the plaza
Cell phone bleating at his breast--

Whirls again as he gains the threshhold,
Silhouette in sunlight eery,
Bobbing, right hand slashing shoulder-
Shoulder-chin-gut: hara kiri.

Auguries of Life (St. Vitus)
Or Of Arms (St. Giorgio's lance)
Read diptych icons, defied as
Equitation and The Dance.

Never having had to answer
With a blade, or word, in church
A message of such urgency,
For me it's really just research;

I wonder (1) if we had a vision
Of a saint, and (2) if so,
On whose behalf his dark incision?
Ours? Well, love, we’ll never know.