Bonhoeffer

the sirens that called to Bonhoeffer

have woken me from my sleep

annoyed, I rub my face and eyes

and venture back under my sheets

“can’t you see that I am satisfied

with moldy bread and rotten cheese?

can’t you see that I am satisfied

with doing things the way I please?

I’d rather live a hundred years

of boring, selfish gain

than risk a loss of all my years

in the midst of your beauty and pain

so quiet your voices, ye Sirens,

and leave me to my sleep

with mansions and cable and fences

and the restless counting of sheep”