This is how it happens.
The sea, the air, the nervous
pen. Somewhere else, a mother
is crying, a child. The earth
is a canvas stretched across
a black frame. The thighbone
is connected to the hipbone,
the head, the eyesnosemouth,
and you, me, Jack and Jill.
Lovemenow, friend,
just look at the soulbody go.
-
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john mann poems 
Great to be reading your words, Dr. Mann. I love the way this one sounds when you read it aloud. Love the rhythm and the sounds.
This poem asks me to go two directions. The front half is ethereal and expansive and then, for me, a jaring turn to nursery hymn which seems irreverent by contrast. If anything, the irreverence should somehow come first and then expand into the ethereal. Or, as Tama once said, “Zero to God in three seconds.” That said, this poem has enough meat to be interesting. It’s both unlovely and hard to walk away from. It has a stong close