Gianmarc Manzione received an MFA from The New School in 2004. Currently living in St. Petersburg, Florida, Gianmarc teaches composition at USF. His poems have appeared in The Paris Review, Poetry Daily and Verse Daily, others are forthcoming in The Southern Review and Raritan. His first book of poems, This Brevity, will appear from Parsifal Press in spring, 2006.

Pinching shut my nose
        to plunge me into the lake
                below his prayer,

A quilt of cold water
        folding around my body,
                I had to

Promise myself, closing my eyes,
        that it was safe
                to be cradled

In the arms of the pastor—
        my fifth grade math teacher—
                who knew salvation

Consisted in nothing more
       than this: a few choice words,
                a proper depth of water,

And a good quiet crowd
        gathered around us
                just inside the schoolyard gates,

Having a look at my unsolicited blessing,
        the hands of my teachers
                stretched to the sky and swaying.

Why did they want to
        know if the water had ever been blessed
                and poured over my head,

If I’d shaken Satan out of my heart
        at the altar of the Lord?
              And when I told them “no,”

Why was it so important
        that I step into the lake,
                that I never stop to wonder

Whether I knew what I was doing,
        so carefully assured
                that there under the hood of morning,

In the release
        of my head to the water,
                lay the love of God?

 Poem © Gianmarc Manzione 2005-2006

www.mipoesias.com © MiPOesias Magazine 2000-2006.
You are reading Volume 20, Issue 1. A Menendez Publication.