The Innisfree Poetry Journal www.innisfreepoetry.org by Jim Solomone
Prayers—Ward
B
brings a priest to our room to pray for his disordered soul, citing scripture that had long failed her, the eloquent rhythm of his medieval voice soothes my roommate, and for this time together, he stops mewling— dare I tell them that the patient in the next room evokes the same response by rapping his head against our wall
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