Doubt—dirt—blood—there is no bliss in the house of God.
How do you keep your shit together? You piss in the house of God.
He walks and does not walk. To hear him, not ears but fear.
To see? Wear fire. Bullet and ballad kiss in the house of God.
A million arrows we shot from here—
each one missed in the House of God.
Unaware Eve danced in the garden before
a serpent hissed in the house of God.
Culted and sculpted, I left a temple in tears and scars.
No one reached forth—such abyss in the house of God.
Communist heart—why weep in vain, in vanity for the lost?
Everyone else’s prayers too are dismissed in the house of God.
Begins like a joke but ends in guns—three men walk
—an American, a Nazi, a Swiss—in the house of God.
Apsaras, smoke, mirrors, rivers of alcohol, battle-soaked
axes, dirty underwear—all of this in the house of God?
by Shannan Mann
—from Rattle #84, Summer 2024
Tribute to the Ghazal
Shannan Mann: “Karan Kapoor introduced me to the form of the ghazal by sending me his most-favorite Agha Shahid Ali poem, ‘After You,’ which is a short, explosive ghazal. I immediately took to the form and started practicing it. Not much later I found I was working toward a book of ghazals which is now near complete. I am happy the form is still thriving, even in a ‘foreign’ language.” (web)
