Readjust your sense of
heaven. Heaven is here and this.
Bruce Whiteman, “Nullus Amor Tanti Est”

Heaven in the slush piles.
Heaven in the gray.
Heaven in the lonely kitchen.

Heaven in the way we’ve changed.
And if I were to pick you now
from a tree in the garden’s heart,

I would not hesitate to bite,
to swallow, bite again, and listen
for the sound of laughter—

mine, god’s, yours—as we
wait for the snow from the sky to slow
and eat another bite of flesh,

smiling all the way to the core.


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