Homiletic

By VIRGINIA KONCHAN

Nothing is analogous to God.
In order to strike, a cobra also needs
to recoil. When it comes to vice
and juridical proceedings, I abstain.
All good things, and strokes of bad luck,
happen in threes, and so let it be this way
with us: from lust, to neutrality, to disgust.
And yet the bare ruined choir. And yet the
meteor shower, particle physics, and gnarled
fruit. The doctor is still shuddering, waiting
for an operable body or consistent theme.
Let me tell you a different story.
I am asking for forgiveness for buying
stock in high proof liquor, for making
eyes at the neighborhood gnome.
Evolution: the identification of a need,
the fulfillment of a need. Daylight
ends, and we agree not to call this
a tragedy. I dismount this life
like a gymnast from a vault:
valorously, without pride.
The opposite of loneliness is
the shared illusion of intimacy.
The opposite of an algorithm
is the futility of awakened desire.
So what if all being is hypothetical?
You took the last of my imagined
grief, and left me with fire.

 

[Purchase Issue 17 here.]

Virginia Konchan is the author of two poetry collections, Any God Will Doand  The End of Spectacle; a collection of short stories, Anatomical Gift; and three chapbooks, including  Empire of Dirt. Her poetry has appeared in The New Yorker, The New Republic, Boston Review, and elsewhere. 

From the beginning, The Common has brought you transportive writing and exciting new voices. We are committed to supporting writers and maintaining free, unrestricted access to our website, but we can’t do it without you. Become an integral part of our global community of readers and writers by donating today. No amount is too small. Thank you!

Homiletic

Related Posts

Anna Malihot and Olena Jenning's headshots

August 2025 Poetry Feature: Anna Malihon, translated by Olena Jennings

ANNA MALIHON
The girl with a bullet in her stomach / runs across the highway to the forest / runs without saying goodbye / through the news, the noble mold of lofty speeches / through history, geography, / curfew, a day, a century / She is so young that the wind carries / her over the long boulevard between bridges

Image of a tomato seedling

Talks with the Besieged: Documentary Poetry from Occupied Ukraine  

ALEX AVERBUCH
Russians are already in Starobilsk / what nonsense / Dmytrovka and Zhukivka – who is there? / half a hundred bears went past in the / direction of Oleksiivka / write more clearly / what’s the situation in Novoaidar? / the bridge by café Natalie got blown up / according to unconfirmed reports

A Tour of America

MORIEL ROTHMAN-ZECHER
This afternoon I am well, thank you. / Walking down Main Street in Danville, KY. / The heavy wind so sensuous. / Last night I fell- / ated four different men back in / Philadelphia season lush and slippery / with time and leaves. / Keep your eyes to yourself, yid. / As a kid, I pledged only to engage / in onanism on special holidays.