Gethsemane

by Robbie Almstead

beneath gnarled limbs
of olive tree,
elementary children
leap and flail hands,
shout and handspring

with each green tickle of grass,
their heart-pinwheels spin
in the naïve breeze

their chubby giggles chase
frail rainbows preached from
God’s Tabernacle of twine
s t r e t c h e d
between two sticks

the sermon explodes
at meek feet
zealous for gurgles
from their bubble-lord’s pulpit

i see heaven’s gap-toothed smile,
that gospel prophecy of joy
which often seems to clumsily come

i kneel on slippery scriptures
and repent in bushels. worldly wisdom,
your apple devours children
and vomits Eden’s crushed seeds
among misanthropic thorns

God,
if possible,
take this cup of adulthood
from me—it runneth over
into the catheter of misery

put new wine into
this old skin,
let me
b u r s t

---

Robbie Almstead is a new writer struggling to break through. He currently lives in Tennessee with his 2 dogs and 10 shotguns.