Poem: “Bread of Ice”

Bread of Ice

Do I not bleed money?
Are not my five wounds five decimal points?
Is not my crown a woven star of diamond?
Am I not scourged with your defaults?

Do I not bear a heavy cross of gold?
Does not my cup run over with petroleum?
Is not the spirit I breathe out the gas
Of the desert tombs?

This is my money
Which will not be given up for you;
This is my blood
Which is too crystalline to flow

At the table of my sacrifice
The bread, which melts before you eat, is baked of ice

                        June 4, 2011

“Bread of Ice,” a reading: http://www.pavelreads.com/

Pavel Chichikov is a Washington DC-based poet and photographer. He has written for both the secular and the Catholic press on issues as diverse as Russian nuclear weapons systems, Olympic athletes, and miracles. His books include From Here to Babylon: Poems by Pavel Chichikov,  Lion Sun: Poems by Pavel Chichikov, Mysteries and Stations in the Manner of Ignatius, and Animal Kingdom. Pavel may be heard reading his works on catholicradiointernational.com and on pavelreads.com. His poetry regularly appears on "The Poetry of Pavel Chichikov."