What I will bring to that altar
is this nauseating sack of guts—
selfish, small, lecherous,
a mind like a whorehouse,
a tongue like a longshoreman’s,
a soft mousy body that seeks
always its own comforts,
a will deluded by hyperactive desires.
Poor wreck that I am.
Can I give over to God’s service
only so little,
and that so badly damaged,
so in and out
of sin and desire?
(John L’Heureux’s diary, April 1966)
Verbatim Poetry 