Poem For Leon Czolgosz Poem by David Kowalczyk

He has been a dying man
all his life. Small beasts
gnaw at his liver, at the
marvelous darkness of his heart,
and the beautiful emptiness
of his eyes.


His mind is full of
imaginary castles where
panic and cunning copulate
in an anguished fervor.


He softly begins chanting
Hare Krishna as he bandages
his stigmata. He pauses
o gaze out the window,
over the edge of death,


and wonders how he can possibly
undo the prayers of his childhood.