The Tinder Chant swipe right to indicate your likes wait until morning for results repeat every day for romance believe in your online presence wait until morning for results don’t lose sleep over your chances believe in your online presence avoid the temptation to lie don’t lose sleep over your chances keep your cell phone far from your bed avoid the temptation to lie such matters take patience and time keep your cell phone far from your bed don’t look every minute for signs such matters take patience and time if it’s meant to be it will be don’t look every minute for signs prepare your heart for rejection if it’s meant to be it will be plenty more fish in the sea prepare your heart for rejection repeat every day for romance plenty more fish in the sea swipe right to indicate your likes
Theology I. The Father My son banks on organ music to lift his spirits. He listens to the ranks of pipes speak their deep advice from the loft as his church fills with incense smoke and holy wine meant to cleanse the soul. He often reflects within his soul on how his soft hands offer music to his savior’s joy. The holy act of practicing to listen for mistakes makes his life a church of spoiled effort and thinking deeply. As he grows he believes he sees deep patterns and repetitions that his soul must navigate through. The church, he says, has saved him, but I hate how music has made him lazy and loathe how he listens to the chords of all things holy. II. The Son My father doesn’t understand holy things, confession, or my deep, deep connection to sacrifice. He only listens to the hammering of his roofs. His soul is deaf to the needs of my music and he never accompanies me to church. He toils under his sky and his church is made with ten-penny nails and holy sweat. He works hard to forget the music of his sordid past and the deep notes of Taps from a cemetery bugle. His sole purpose is to labor over those who listen. Now, I have found a Father who listens to the anthems I sing at church, who respects my belief in the soul and understands, completely, how holy I have become in practicing the deep harmonies of such heavenly music. III. The Holy Ghost When the soul is prepared to listen to the music of the sky, the church will reveal itself to the infinite deep.
Eric Machan Howd (Ithaca, NY) is a poet, musician, and educator. His work has been seen in such publications as River City, Nimrod, Stone Canoe, Caesura, and The Healing Muse. In 2021, his fifth collection of poetry, “Universal Monsters,” was published by The Orchard Street Press. He is currently working on an erasure project using a work by author H.P. Lovecraft.
Grand Little Things 