Because losing faith is like losing weight
and none of your old credos fit

and nobody knows who you are
in that calico sackcloth?

Because you don’t know what to say
to your sister’s sanctimonious grin—

Sister, forgive me, for I have sinned,
I can’t remember how. . .

but yes, borrow my axe and ballet slippers
my yang, my yin?

Because you longed for Calliope
who always made you wait?

Because the wench did not believe
punctuality the courtesy of kings?

Because that old melody you knew by heart
slid into a minor key?

Because your father
never let you win—

and you never knew
if you were the fraud or he the cheat?

You just keep losing and lying–
lying low so someone else can win.

 

Lois Marie Harrod’s l9th collection of poetry, The Bed the Size of a Small Country, appeared in September 2025. Dodge poet, life-long educator and writer, she is published in literary journals and online ezines from American Poetry Review to Zone 3. More info at www.loismarieharrod.org