By Glenn Marchand
PROMPT—I am grateful for ...
I was a child when it struck—through darkness, benighted, lights seemed dim, love wasn’t ideal. Maybe grateful for lessens. Maybe heavy on the throttle. Maybe running into the future. I neither claim nor disclaim adolescence. Bedded by traumas. Too steep in thought not to tremble. Grateful for faith. Christic or Jewish; Muslim or Hindu; human, part alien, certainly close, no matter what—alienated from clarity, grateful for expression. Such cultic penmanship, so deathless, seemingly causeless, those topaz eyes, Casper ghosts, to have adored, morals unknown. Upon a cactus, into a morning yawn, surrounded by humanness—wobbling back to justice, effacing experiences, trying to adore deprivation. It was us despite pain. So grateful for meals. So grateful for electricity. In thought, grateful for visitations. A wrecked family, as best we could, severed by understanding, kept in darkness. A son might go bitter—watching a rose sprout from concrete, doing as taught, to adore through habit, lacking reasoning skills. Finding some solace in reading about Forefathers. To see written affliction, to feel Lamentations, such immortal redemption. Garments torn asunder, dust flailed about, falling into repentance, ironically, doing as taught, grateful to have suffered. Seashores. Thought out ink. A horrible innocence. Wishing upon a seahorse. Grateful to write.
Glenn Marchand is a poet-writer holding an MFA in Creative Writing from Mount Saint Mary’s University. Marchand is a poet-writer speaking to various realities created by the human condition. In exploring religious and scientific truths, Marchand carefully employs observations. It is with a sense of pleasure and enthusiasm that Marchand presents his prose poems. Each one was written with an eye on enlightening the author and given audience. He writes from San Jose, California.
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