#tania runyan

[revmeg]

“Ephesus” by Tania Runyan

I was in love with God for one afternoon. Twenty, alone on a beach, I dropped rocks by the edge and watched the ocean wash gray into blue, brown into red. An hour of my crunching steps, the clack of pebbles, the water’s rippling response. Never mind invisibility. We were the only ones, and I  so intoxicating--sand-blown hair, denim cut-offs, no reason to believe anyone’s faith could dissolve. My prayers were as certain as the stones I threw, the answers as sure as the cove’s blue floor.

[revmeg]

Soon and very soon, we sing. Jesus will soon take place. Don't guess the hour-- but everybody seems to find him: his face imprinted on slices of toast, breath in the form of gold dust on a scarf. I doubt, love, need, forget. But come and get me, thief. Scramble. Cut your arms and legs through the fog like blades of the bright morning star.

from “Coming Soon” in What Will Soon Take Place: Poems by Tania Runyan, p. 91

[revmeg]

...we had checked hasty sex off the list and driven our rental Taurus through Taco Bell. We had not eaten in sixteen hours. I was not radiant.

from “The Marriage Supper” in What Will Soon Take Place: Poems by Tania Runyan, p. 85

[revmeg]

“The Book of Life” by Tania Runyan

Jesus saunters up to the mic, opens the book, and stares at the audience. Silent. Exactly how narrow was this road? Too many to list, he says, and slams it closed. Come on, guys. Let’s get the hell out of here. 

[revmeg]

“Double-Edged Sword” by Tania Runyan

Fear not the fear mongers and their torn-crowned ax murderer

charging the crowd on a white horse, wide-eyed for commies and gays. Christ comes after you with nothing more than a word in his mouth:

just a double-edged marrow splitter, knife handle jostling in his jaws. Sell it all. Despise your children. Gouge your eye and ankle-hack. Pulverize a camel through the needle’s blistering chink. You bones. You shriveled figs. You knockabout whitewashed hearts. Did he ever know you? You hope to God to lose your life. Shivering in the splendor of a lily, you bleed.

[revmeg]

If I just wave my arms, I know you'll wrench me out. But I'm ready to run.

from “The Seven Bowls of God’s Wrath” in What Will Soon Take Place: Poems by Tania Runyan, p. 69

[revmeg]

I will not repent, even as the sunflames lurch down on me, I will clench them like reins, ride his anger all the way to the pit of his heart.

from “The Seven Bowls of God’s Wrath” in What Will Soon Take Place: Poems by Tania Runyan, p. 67

[revmeg]

We've been instructed to want a Baz Luhrmann afterlife, not the subtle, oaky undertones of Christ in the wilderness.

from “The Mark of the Lamb” in What Will Soon Take Place: Poems by Tania Runyan, p. 50