Prayer at the Winter Solstice
2017

Andrew Frisardi

 

​​​​​​​​God of flu and laryngitis,
God of via negativas
Iced on roads and anti-Midas
Touches of our fallen divas:

God of cracks along the walk,
Cracked republics, and of kitsch,
God of failure’s watch in hock,
God of the raw sexual itch:

God of wrists in morgues, just dead,
God the breaking wave suspends
Over hearts that lose their head,
Ray of light the water bends:

God of flies whose buzzing fills
Emptiness’s dazzling quiddity,
God of the worst of all our ills,
Insurmountable stupidity:

Thwart our knowing what we’re praying
Till the sun at night is clearer,
Let the blindness we’re betraying
See the twilight in your mirror.

 

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Andrew’s notes: “Looking through my poems for something seasonal, I came up with a few options, but this one from The Harvest and the Lamp seemed best for the moment. The year in the title marks the first year of a certain president’s first term. Now, in the parallel time-and-other-warped universe of that moment, I figured I’d pull this one out of the heap. Happy New Year to all—and God help us: we’re going to
need it.“

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Andrew Frisardi is a writer, translator, and editor. Lately he has been translating poems by Maria Luisa Spaziani, two of which are in the Fall 2025 Hudson Review, and including her long narrative poem about Joan of Arc. His introduction to Petrarch and his poetry will be published in A. M. Juster’s translation of the complete Canzoniere, due out from W. W. Norton in April 2026.

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Hop to…

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