i would make dust devils
if a pair of wings
sprouted from my back
like those pictures of angels
from a kid’s illustrated bible
–you know, the one with blond jesus
ah, those wings, so bright
so electric fluoride white
were they just for show
i don’t remember seeing
the angels fly in those pictures
one image i remember–
flaming sword in hand
staring off at the horizon
not even looking at adam and eve
but ready to set up the hue and cry
as they slunk away in the shadow
of its petrified glowing wings
with shame-shadowed stained faces
or maybe he stared at them
disappointment smeared across his mug
insects trying to steal their way
back into a prison called paradise
or envy since they soared
without wings and without
having to carry that dead weight
around on their backs
——