Saint John the Unfinished

Saint John the Unfinished

Betsy K. Brown

My body is a broken temple
of the Holy spirited away
by cigarette smoke and city grime.
I grind my teeth, wanting to be washed.

How long, O Lord? The nave of my neck lies long and empty
like an abandoned subway tunnel;
The domed ceiling inside of my skull is gray and bare,
waiting to be turned into art.
But as of now, no one crosses himself before peering into me.

Shroud me in scaffolding.
I want to be wrapped up in metal poles,
white plastic, and construction workers.
Roll a stone over my whitewashed mouth.
Let me lie.
Unveil me someday.

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Betsy K. Brown
Poet & Teacher

Betsy has been published in Circe Institute, Relief Journal, AWP’s The Writer’s Notebook, and Curator Magazine. She is also a monthly columnist for the Institute for Classical Education. You can read more of her work at betsykbrown.com

Photography by Andrea de Santis