Mary Ann Dimand

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Schrödinger’s Messiah

Inside the dark,
a baby, no, a scourged corpse,
no, a teacher, healing, dripping holy
oil, no, a child lost and finding
the sacrifice, no, a word
ripping chaos into a spray of stars
and snails, tears and singing, saying
yes, yes, all this, there is no no.

Artwork by Gene McCormick

            For and from Francesca

Over the corpses
on the doorstep
she buzzes forth 
in light like lemons—
somewhere in the cold,
a crocus will be spreading 
thin scented petals, maybe
even forsythia fanning
a banquet wide. For a bee
the newness is a busy
mix of sorrow
and richness. Soon,
in the thawing swamp,
ruminating bears will
snuff skunk cabbage.


We don’t talk
much now. Horror
snatches breath, 
lays an uphill
path to simple tasks.
to lie down in some cool
stream, let it wash
away all vision, fill
the ears, quiet
lungs—but silence burns,
and gasping, we drag on.


How busy the birds
at their rutting—logy chirps
to pull the sun up, wistful
calls to share the clouded
night. What cloacal fury!
To think that maelstrom
births inscrutable eggs.


Mary Ann Dimand was born in Southern Illinois where the Union North
meets Confederate South, and the influence of this region is evident in
her writing, technical editing, and even ministry. With an MA in
economics from Carleton University, an MPhil from Yale University, and
her MDiv in theology, Dimand’s multiple disciplines afford conceptual
and poetic leverage. Some of her previous publication credits include:
The History of Game Theory Volume I: From the Beginnings to 1945; The
Foundations of Game Theory; and Women of Value: Feminist Essays on the
History of Women in Economics, among others. Her work is forthcoming in
The Birds We Piled Loosely, The Borfski Press, The Broken Plate, Mantis,
Scarlet Leaf Review, and Slab.