holding them both.

The other day
I was reading some writer's
words about beauty
being everywhere. She said
life is hard, but life also
is good. We should rejoice.
My lips stiffened into a line
as I read.
(Which is- I'm aware- a problem)

The other day, I saw
a 4th grader
labor through her math
while fondling herself
beneath the table. (When an 8 year old
knows they have a vagina- I've been taught
it's a red flag of abuse)
We talked about
whether the answer to number 5 was A or D,
knowing, I wasn't there long enough
to ask other questions.
to listen
for something concrete. And also
that the world is full of such
normal horror.
That I teach math
almost everyday to children
whose souls are
curtained
in dark water.

I know, Oh God, that
You are beautiful, and that You alone
have never turned
from pain. You who also
resolutely yell
the joyful story
in the darkest holes.
That You cry and sing
and somehow You
do them both perfectly
and at once.

I think I would like to
do this with You.
As usual,
I have no idea
how.