The third commandment: "You shall not take the Lord's name in vain."
My father broke this commandment often. One of his favorite invocations in times of surprise, frustration, and anger: "Jeee-sus Christ!"
I don't generally throw God's name into my profanity. I'm a little more old-fashioned, I guess. Hence, if a curse passes my lips, it's just plain old "Fuck!" or "Shit!" On rare occasions, I may say "goddammit!" However, I prefer one-syllable oaths--they have more power and impact. A fist to the face ("Piss!") instead of a series of blows ("Motherfucker!").
Billy Collins meditates on invocations . . .
Oh, My God!
by: Martin Achatz
Not only in church
and night by their bedsides
do young girls pray these days.
Wherever they go,
prayer is woven into their talk
like a bright thread of awe.
Even at the pedestrian mall
outbursts of praise
spring unbidden from their glossy lips.
Tonight I did a public reading for the first time from my new book of poems. I was one of five poets on the roster, and I went second.
I shared four poems from the book and then five more short poems from my new manuscript. The establishment that hosted the reading is a popular hangout for college-age students, so I didn't quite know what to expect in the way of audience. Plus, my Bigfoot poems are strange. I don't think people know whether to laugh or cry or both when they hear them.
But, I read, and the entire place remained pretty quiet through the entire 20 minutes I was allotted. I'd like to say I had them eating out of the palm of my hand (I hate that metaphor, by the way), but I'm not sure that was the case. Maybe they were just being polite, or they were busy getting drunk on ale and mead and kombucha. Whatever the reason, they were damn silent.
I sold one book and got two free drinks. Ate some pizza and cookies. Visited with friends. It was a fucking good night.
Saint Marty doesn't have anything else to swear about.
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