Harry Hoy

New Order (En Verdaille)

I cannot afford stained glass.
Instead I have put plants in the window
to filter the light in this private
monastery of mine where
every day starts with a prayer
to the patron saint of dreams—
that I may forget the nightmares
but let the bizarre linger in the corners
of my brain when I need something
to talk about in therapy.

The morning hymn is a duet
between the radio and the nextdoor neighbors
talking in polyphony about sourdough
or the weather or how vaccines can be produced so fast.

The vow of silence is easy—
there is no one to talk to.
Though, I am tempted
by the drippy washcloth in the sink (he must be very sad).
The bear-shaped honey jar seems friendly too.

My habit is simple and I have removed all the mirrors
to avoid the sin of vanity. I see enough of myself
in video calls and the blank screen of a dead battery.

I long for a carillon to ring in the night
but I will settle for the familiar
percussion of doing the dishes.

Harry Hoy is a graduate of Boston College with a background in linguistics and archival work. He currently lives in Philadelphia and works as a staffer in his local library system. Along with appearing in Barzakh, Harry has work forthcoming in A&U Magazine and 300 Days of Sun. You can find him on Instagram @hoyboy_1