Redemption

by Jo Ann Baldinger

Like you, I am married
to this current body-life

its aging infrastructure
& existential botherations

though some blithe sprite goes on imagining
I will get to the bottom of things.

All will be explained
& I will be redeemed

like the rubber-banded Raleigh coupons
my mother traded for a new toaster.

In the godless house of my childhood
there were no sacred texts or rituals.

It's possible I read too many novels.
I prefer observing from a slight elevation

like the front row of the dress circle.
Whereas from the highest box at the Paris Opera

all I could see were the mezzo's pointed boots
—well-polished, gleaming in the spotlight.