1







A psalm of Isaak, accompanied by Jew's harp.







O God Belovéd if obliquely so,



dimly apprehended in the midst



of this, the fraught obscuring fog



of my insufficiently capacious ken,



Ostensible Lover of our kind—while



apparently aloof—allow



that I might glimpse once more



Your shadow in the land, avail



for me, a second time, the sense



of dire Presence in the pulsing



hollow near the heart.



Once more, O Lord, from Your enormity incline



your Face to shine upon Your servant, shy



of immolation, if You will.











2







A psalm of Isaak, accompanied by baying hounds.







O Shaper of varicolored clay and cellulose, O Keeper



of same, O Subtle Tweaker, Agent



of energies both appalling and unobserved,



do not allow Your servant's limbs to stiffen



or to ossify unduly, do not compel Your servant



to go brittle, neither cramping at the heart,



nor narrowing his affective sympathies



neither of the flesh nor of the alleged soul.



Keep me sufficiently limber that I might continue



to enjoy my morning run among the lilies



and the rowdy waterfowl, that I might



delight in this and every evening's intercourse



with the woman you have set beside me.



Make me to awaken daily with a willingness



to roll out readily, accompanied



by grateful smirk, a giddy joy,



the idiot's undying expectation,



despite the evidence.











3







A psalm of Isaak, whispered mid the Philistines, beneath the breath.







Master both invisible and notoriously



slow to act, should You incline to fix



Your generous attentions for the moment



to the narrow scene of this our appointed



tedium, should You—once our kindly



secretary has duly noted which of us



is feigning presence, and which excused, which unexcused,



You may be entertained to hear how much we find to say



about so little. Among these other mediocrities,



Your mediocre servant gets a glimpse of how



his slow and meager worship might appear



from where You endlessly attend our dreariness.



Holy One, forgive, forgo and, if You will, fend off



from this my heart the sense that I am drowning here



amid the motions, the discussions, the several



questions endlessly recast, our paper ballots.











4







Isaak's penitential psalm, unaccompanied.







Again, and yes again, O Ceaseless Tolerator



of our bleaking recurrences, O Forever Forgoing



Foregone (sans conclusion), O Inexhaustible,



I find my face against the floor, and yet again



my plea escapes from unclean lips, and from a heart



caked in and constricted by its own soiled residue.



You are forever, and forever blessed, and I aspire



one day to slip my knot and change things up,



to manage at least one late season sinlessly,



to bow before you yet one time without chagrin.





