...'they' all have a prescription, your lost-ness is dream within a dream, so it to should handle intself accordingly, eh?...you speak my feelings...i honour yours--well spoken, Flaubert[paraphased]...we beat log drums trying to make music that would melt the stars.' we are the deafest to our own needs/wants/desires when they conflict with status quo, or whomever. sartre said hell is other people. mmmmnnnah?

"Am I a thumb cavorting with the hand in pools of loons an owl so wide awake?" so many images come from this line. I now know what a "rundle" is. I can feel your quandry here. The word "syringe" is loaded with meaning and potential foreboding, in my mind - probably the key word for me in this poem.

I love "those catholic capillaries" and all it infers, the deliverance of life blood, the bringing in of oxygen and the removal of carbon dioxide, how the church is that in so many ways. This is true mastery of a language!

Masterful writing! Powerful in expression. Great depth in symbolism and message.

It has been a long time since I have written a sonnet and this inspires me to write another. Brilliant my iambic friend!

I have contemplated this and read it over many times. I believe this is one of your best.It is a masterpiece.I am not Catholic and was reared in the Methodist Denomination,yet I can relate to this very well.I am a Christian but I no longer go to church and do not affiliate with any particular denomination.Doubts come easy.Faith is another matter. This is going in my favorites, no doubt about it!