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As they died, ancient martyrs

let fall their heads, distinct,

and a crucifix, from fingers

released: that which they held

close clutched until their blood

leapt against gravity to God.

From our fingers, what falls,

when we new faithful fall?

Splintered, atomic, bereft of

unified field or faith:

some drop dollars, others rings.

I drop nothing. The vacuum

of space my faith's dark emblem.


Greg Beatty lives with his wife in Bellingham, Washington, where he tries, unsuccessfully, to stay dry. He writes everything from children's books to essays about his cooking debacles. Greg recently published his first poetry chapbook, Phrases of the Moon. It is available from Spec House. You can view Greg's web site at http://gregbeatty.net and he can be reached by email at gbeatty@earthlink.net.



Any rumors you've heard about Greg Beatty's time at Clarion West 2000 are probably true. Greg (email Greg) publishes everything from poetry about stars to reviews of books that don't exist. Greg Beatty lives in Bellingham, Washington, where he tries, unsuccessfully, to stay dry. Greg recently got married. You can read more by Greg in our Archives.
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