There is a small tree which I used to pray under.
I would pray for my mother, my sister, my dog,
My old army men as they stood frozen in war and watched
the horrors of Vietnam in blank perpetuity.
I would say prayers for my grandmother who
collected clocks to remind her that time was still going forward.
I would say a small prayer for the kid in my class who
wasn't a kid at all, at least not to the fingers prodding sex and sex-
like feelings in and through minds less than the more they could become.
I would say prayers for everyone--
Except for you.