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Poem

I looked for comfort in nostalgia 
Like water in a wishing well
Looked for solace in the moment
Like a new friend in a prison cell

I looked for things I didn’t know
And things I guess I do
O, Baby
I looked for you

I looked for absinthe in a dark room
Like Van Gogh in his cafe
I looked for romance in Pamplona 
Like a suicidal Hemingway

I looked in my imagination
But that was all used up and through
O, sweet Baby 
I looked for you

I looked for prostitutes in Bedlam
And those Babylonian whores
For their magnanimous redemption
As they flogged me down onto all fours

I looked for women that I didn’t know
The forlorn and the few
O, Baby
Then I looked for you

I looked for you
I traced the clues
Misled once in awhile
Tricked by the occasional ruse

I looked for beatific evidence
In the collected works of Christ
From the Ark of the Repentant 
To the great sanctimonious device

I looked for a face on the woven shroud
Played the Immaculate Peek-a-boo 
O Jesus, I looked for you.

2010

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