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January 23, 2020 Poetry

Nativity Scene

Josh Tvrdy

Nativity Scene photo

After I jack off to hardcore gay porn
I always dream a hand, my
mother's, severed from the rest

of her, gripping the red-
handled shears she uses to prune
the bird of paradise down to its stump—

that slow, sun-spotted hand
I love, hovering those stainless steel blades close
to the stalk of my dick—

& this December, visiting home, I find
the Virgin's porcelain hand
(so small it could fit inside an olive's hollow)

resting by the donkey's hoof, a broken
miracle I nearly steal, wanting to make
a necklace I'd never take off,

her tiny cold fingers tapping
my sternum, close to my heart, wherever
I go.



image: Doug Paul Case