Glass Poetry Press

Volume Two Issue One

Glenn Sheldon

Perpetual Holiday

St. Valentine has been left for dead at the crossroads. His nakedness doesn't explain his deafness. Dirt blown from faraway farms slowly buries him until, a year later, we need him desperately. He is dusted off and stuffed into a G-string, taught table manners. Peace isn't what the world wants after all — no, no. There is a rush towards astonishment, as if one holiday is enough to conquer the aches: La Paz, vanished city, fails to turn into a snappy greeting card.