by A. Sea Herndon


I thank you, Lord, for insulin

or my son would not be here

& thanks for antibiotics

or my whole family would be dead

thanks for wine and thanks for bread

thanks for tortillas

and pencil lead

thanks for this ink

with which I write

thanks that days give rest at night

thanks for unbridled passion

thanks for pumpkin pie

thank you that we’re living

thank you that we die

thanks for Lawrence Ferlinghetti

thanks for St. John Paul

thanks for cheap spaghetti

and even shopping malls

thanks that trees grow upward

thanks their roots grow down

thanks for suits of armor

thanks for wedding gowns

thanks for seas of wilderness

thanks for cities full of life

thank you for my children

thank you for my wife

thanks for strange estrangement

thanks for what I do not understand

thanks for kidneys, lungs, & hearts

thanks for pineal glands

thanks for fresh trimmed toe-nails

thanks for western winds

thanks for junk, that cars have trunks

that novels have an end

thanks that left is not the right

that gravity persists

and for all the laws of nature

I’ve left here off my list

thanks for books & bags & bars

thanks for wombats, wolverines

thanks for all the shining stars

no human eye has ever seen

thanks for everything we all forget

for all we take for granted

thanks for paying off our debt

on this small thankful planet

I thank you, thank you, thank you, Lord

for every weird existence

for every strange creation

and thanks for your persistence

Thanks for everything!

Thanks for everything!