In the beginning was the hand, and the hand was good
Celan says there’s no difference between a handshake and a poem
The hand has a tendency to close around the palm,
flatbread and goat cheese, prayer beads extracted at the checkpoint
The mouth may say, What am 1 doing here what am I doing here
but the hand is curious, it learns with the fingertips
My hand remembers fingering the rosary, frisson of apostasy,
enchanted circuit of witless penance
At this moment, everywhere, the hand is touching the forbidden
The head shies off but five witnesses compel the hand to tell
-Lee Sharkey, The Seattle Review
Coffee and Irony 