Anthony Thomas Lombardi

 

Lazarus rises from the grave, New York City, 2023

after Nick Cave

               judging by the canary feathers jutting from your mouth
i’d say you’ve come bearing mercy but sometimes
               a cigar is just a cigar. you’ve been feasting on roadkill again.

centuries from Bethany, in a city where only factories close
               quicker than caskets, the lights of New York dissolve before you
like ice on a bruise. you graffiti your grave on every subway map

               in Crown Heights, Astoria, Van Cortlandt Park, always east
of Eden. poor Larry. you never asked to be raised from your tomb.
               you only longed to win the love of longshoremen

swilling lagers & dirty jokes in a bygone Red Hook bar
               to hold the heat & pull of a dying sun. instead you lingered
like a carcass turned cadaver & smudged the air

               with a song no one asked for. stumbling downtown
swallowed by a clash of churls & chants, you recall Jesus & his love
               of lepers as scrawled placards knock your halo

into a surge of traffic. even the angels posted above you snicker
               as they play your spine like a Steinway, biting tongues
that could open a bottle of wine. armed with nothing

               but a psalm, you are reminded of the samurai stripped
of their swords who found their flutes’ bamboo to be the perfect
               cudgel. outside a church, you are drawn to a side door’s

static glow, ghosts rattling their chains & moaning beneath
               the crackle. as a string of sinners, reborn or recently fallen
file out, you recite omens for tomorrow’s blood moon

               like a mockingbird perched on a prophet’s shoulder
but they only throw their day-one chips in your coffee.
               you see no crosses, no scruples & sulking past

the freshly scrubbed window of a storefront, no reflection.
               Heaven is a place where nothing happens & it happens
all day, God often dismissed as rust. like the archer

               surrounded by wolves who reaches into his quiver
& pulls out gladioli, you raise your arms & reach for the stars
               to surrender.