Sundays, Never Lived Right


Some lie about it, some are resistant,
but it seems that we all have it, this carcass
of spirit, so why do we struggle so hard,
fighting the unnatural cycles that come

every Sunday? And it’s every fucking
Sunday, regardless of preparation, how
largely we’ve slept, how consumed with glory
we are about our Saturday. Those who love

their jobs, if they’re honest, yes, they
get poisoned also, and if you look inside,
you’ll see the gray fog made of snakes
crawling in muscular choking motions,

and we act as though we’re fine, as though
church is the activity to save us from our
spiritual deserts, and in the afternoon,
we clean and tighten the yard, we stay

slick, but we know that the only valuable time
spent was in maybe the half hour when we collected
dead grass, dead leaves, and celebrated that
idea that somehow, we’ve survived another week

despite our keen awareness of all the death cycles
around us, we fight knowing that our struggle
is against the real forces, we think we’re winning,
but we do nothing to value this gift of life until

we’re dying, not regretting the Sunday services we’re
soon to be missing, having no sorrow over the ugliness
of our yards that we can’t maintain as we disintegrate,
not knowing why our family walks around with holes

where our spirits should be traveling, should be sealing
with bundles  of infinity, with terminal, unending organs
filled with love.



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  1. #1 by adamfromnorway on October 7, 2012 - 12:44 am

    I love it!

    • #2 by Carl on October 21, 2012 - 9:12 pm

      Thank you for your comment.

  2. #3 by Seabell on October 7, 2012 - 3:05 am

    A special one, for sure. Some time ago I wrote a small text about a dog learning the same thing in the end. It’s good if from time to time we remember that.

    • #4 by Carl on October 21, 2012 - 9:12 pm

      Thank you for your comment.

  3. #5 by Hawkruh on October 7, 2012 - 12:49 pm


    • #6 by Carl on October 21, 2012 - 9:13 pm

      A strike, huh? Thanks for your kindness.

  4. #7 by Shauna on October 7, 2012 - 10:46 pm

    The human spirit always dying and surviving. Profound.

    • #8 by Carl on October 21, 2012 - 9:13 pm

      Thank you for your comment.

  5. #9 by claudia on October 7, 2012 - 10:57 pm

    strong images…some sundays feel a bit like this…and the more we try to give them sense in their preciousness, the more it seems to just be the day before monday…ugh

    • #10 by Carl on October 21, 2012 - 9:14 pm

      Thank you for your comments Claudia. I appreciate it.

  6. #11 by Pamela on October 8, 2012 - 7:23 pm

    The longer we live, it seems for some of us, the more tuned in we are to dying–because of this awareness, living, too. It’s an odd cycle.

    Love the new look. Nice and clean and easy to navigate.

    Still waiting on hockey news. Nuttin.

    • #12 by Carl on October 21, 2012 - 9:15 pm

      Thank you for your comment. Hockey better be along soon!

      • #13 by Pamela on October 22, 2012 - 11:37 am

        You’re welcome, Carl. *sigh* I hope so! 🙂

  7. #14 by settleandchase on October 9, 2012 - 5:11 pm

    I love the rhythm in your words, they beat, a strong heart..great writing..

    • #15 by Carl on October 21, 2012 - 9:15 pm

      Thank you for your visit and thank you for your kind comment.

  8. #16 by Colleen@LooseLeafNotes on October 11, 2012 - 8:49 am

    I always wondered as a child why we heard an inspiring service in church and then everyone just went back to acting the same. I like the term carcass of spirit.

    • #17 by Carl on October 21, 2012 - 9:16 pm

      Thank you for your comment.

  9. #18 by Hudson Howl on October 15, 2012 - 11:25 am

    Is it ever to late, to put value on a life or to reconcile. Not as disparaging as the some and church might want us to believe.

    • #19 by Carl on October 21, 2012 - 9:16 pm

      Thank you for your visit. your comment is insightful as usual.

  10. #20 by Carl D'Agostino on October 21, 2012 - 10:28 am

    On Sunday service Presbyterians sit in the back by the exit door to rush out home for 1 PM football game. We let the Episcopalians get the booze, the Methodists sing the fight songs, and Baptists pray for the win. The Catholics book the betting and take a cut for the building fund(alleged).

    • #21 by Carl on October 21, 2012 - 9:18 pm

      This is an awesome portrait, Carl.

      • #22 by Carl D'Agostino on October 23, 2012 - 9:10 am

        I know . I’m Presbyterian. We don’t even have to listen to the minister because we usually know more theology than he. At least I do. Dolphins gotta beat Jets Sunday. Amen.

  11. #23 by stillight on October 21, 2012 - 9:46 pm

    I loved this, Carl, and how true… when we think we’re really living when we’re so far from life and so close to death. and the ending… fantastic! I also loved how you used the expletive… really sets the tone.

    • #24 by Carl on October 25, 2012 - 1:36 pm

      Thank you for your comment. I appreciate your kindness – it helps.

  12. #25 by drawandshoot on October 28, 2012 - 7:37 pm

    Carl, I peek in here every so often, but I am quiet… – your writing is heart-achingly beautiful.
    Best wishes, Karen

    • #26 by Carl on October 29, 2012 - 9:12 pm

      Karen, you are very kind to comment. I appreciate it and it keeps me inspired. Thanks!

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