Issue > Poetry
Roger Desy

Roger Desy

Roger Desy writes lyrics—tight lyrics/loose sonnets—giving an old form new room, perhaps a new freedom. Roger taught literature and creative writing and edited technical manuals. Now it’s lyrics. A few are in Cider Press, Kenyon, Mid-American and South Carolina Reviews, Midwest Quarterly and Poet Lore.

Midnight Mass


—carols of lambs rise on the fetal curls
wafting shadows of incense to the nave

where weathered rafters insulate patinas

of sweet ash from the outer winter night



thin coils echo a lyric ecstasy
that lures us from the innocence of sin

to the stillbirth of a miracle on lips

drying like mucus in the milk of souls



browsing stained-glass to scrutinize seduction

the prodigal left us poor—poor pomp poor faith


a lord of lords a king of kings a devil a god a man



hands fold in delicate arthritic prayer


—kiss—kiss! the simple-poor—inheriting

a famine snow sown on a lucid field

 

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