Sonnet #383

Whole passages of the Bible are just sons

A list of sons after sons, a lineage of boys

I know the women were ignored or just toys

But that’s culture not god not holiness and when

The holiest of books just lists out names of people

Remember their names, some with no stories, 

Just a mark of ink to obituary and connect blurry

Half-remembered retold things attached to people

And the learned wisdom of these great men 

Accumulated from kitchen tables and late nights

Lying awake and talking and remembering then

Doing mundane things, cooking, eating, fights

Over stupid things no one even remembers

The holiest books carry these gaps forever