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Sonnet 
(from The of Not) 
Michael Greenlee 

and in heaven a blind god spins madly 

churning to the insane piping of flutes 

mouthed by knowing angels whose once golden 

sbn and downy wings have been ravaged 

by the eternal atomic glory 

of our most high god. sing alleluia 

as fallout descends manna and for 

the space of an hour silence reigns . 

my blasphemies are the only true words 

i lrnow, so in praise i lift them up. 

and i know no better charity than 

my sins, so freely given. of this i 

have no doubt: my honesty i'll give to 

god, whose grace will bury all of us. 

Analecta 17 


