Gospel Night

  In a poetry world filled with structurally-experimental and opaque writing, Michael Waters’s voice is increasingly unique. He writes in a straight-forward, lyrically beautiful style while delving into risqué subject matter, particularly regarding sex. In Gospel Night, his 10th poetry collection, Waters tackles the dual (and dueling) natures of our humanity: sin and transgression; isolation and atrocity; love and darkness; and the desire for a language that can illuminate such ordinary yet disturbing spaces.

 The Bells

Sanctuary Basilica

Malta

Pale novitiates flocked the bell tower

To shadow my wife one rooftop below.

Oiled, asleep, she remained unaware

Of cassock-clad boys pivoting the ledge

Until the priest appeared to knell their shame

The precise moment—punctual sinner—

I bumped open the rooftop door, bearing

In each fist a flute, orange fizz daubing

The blistered tar, the riotous mimosas

Two more slender flames expanding the near

Suburbs of hell where she sprawled, naked, stunned

Speechless on gaudy towels, below breathless

Boys, riding the pitch, not so far from God.