Wall Hanging
by Chila Woychik
I picture it. A billion steely crosses
penetrating his vulnerability.
The porcupine god suffering in stereotype.
Every private part we cover with shame, exposed.
Hot press against his hung feet,
jeering at his foolishness, weakness,
(and, really?) size. We, thrown back in time,
laugh too, but he, hanging, hanging,
throws a sheet against our indecency
with his benediction, framed in time,
a Mona Lisa commenced, hint of a smile
along split bloody lips sobbing “forgive.”
Chila Woychik is originally from the beautiful land of Bavaria but has lived in the Midwest most of her life. She has been published in Cimarron, Passages North, and others, and has an essay collection, Singing the Land: A Rural Chronology (Shanti Arts, 2020). Chila also edits the Eastern Iowa Review.
