I STEPPED INTO A HIERONYMUS BOSCH PAINTING, WOKE UP SWEATING
BY VINCENT TOMEO
Hieronymus Bosch
What kind of Catholic are you?
Hands severed from bodies
How can one pray?
Like something out of a Salvador Dali painting
Limpid hands inside deep throats choking
Hands unable to grasp
Outstretched hands gesture
Opening, closing their fists like clams in pain
As people grope their way through quicksand-sinking
In a theatre of demonic mystics out of hell
People screaming to grab onto something
Hands hug trees
Hands are handcuffed to walls
Hands are on fire
Numbed hands are hooks penetrating ripped hearts
What are the riddles of earth to set us free from sin?
Blood-soaked gloves salute holy drippings of precious blood
Skeleton hands in closets of damnation yearn to be free
Hands littered the Garden of Earthly Delight
Filled with variegated flowers
As the sun sets outstretched hands calling
Oh Brotherhood of Our Lady,
Will the earth implode
Behind the doors painted greenish-gray
Are bulbous plants ready to bloom
Open the triptych wings so we can fly out of hell
