This is my church,
this dark clubroom
below broadway
jazz guitar throbs
the players nod

Together we ride
the wild jazz pony
making something
one of a kind
Tears well
I pound my hands

In times square
I revel
in the neon beat
of so much
fragile humanity
my own solo pulse
sore, battered
but still here
and marvelous

• • •

In the church
of the blessed sacrament
humanity sleeps in the pews
battered, nearly broken
hungry alone and homeless
overhead
the hanged man
bends over all
battered, nearly broken
hungry alone and homeless
arms stretched
he weeps

Outside
the rain falls on all
my heart cleaves
This is my sacrament,
the jazz of the moment
the wild pony of my heart