The Our Father

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The Our Father
by Franz Wright

I am holding cirrhosis
with one hand and AIDS
with the other, in a circle

to recite the august simple prayer
you briefly took on tortured
human form to teach

us, here, below —
Utterer of leaves, most mysterious
author of water and light;

taker and restorer of oblivion, what will it be?
What final catastrophe sent
to wean me from this world.