Dies Irae 
[Oh you sweet uncultivated sapling]

Dies irae, Dies illa, Solvet saeclum in favilla, Teste David cum Sybilla,

You are the silt and the clay. That’s what the teacher at Sunday School tells you, play kits in hand.

 

Dies irae, Dies irae, Dies illa, Solvet saeclum in favilla,

God is the ceramist and I am the tool and the mold. So close your eyes, let Him tenderly

 

Dies irae, Dies illa, Solvet saeclum in favilla, Teste David cum Sybilla,

fettle you before He can see you, oh you little leveret born imperfect, like you scrape and pinch and toss

 

Dies irae, Dies irae, Dies illa, Solvet saeclum in favilla, Solvet saeclum in favilla.

your play-dough without a care in the world. Here, take some crayons to color out God’s will for you.

 

Teste David cum Sybilla, Sybilla.

But if you draw out of line, then God help you, dear child.

 

–

Quantus tremor est futurus,

Back home, Mama places the magazine that she picked up from church on the kitchen countertop. I

 

Quando judex est venturus,

peer at the cover on the tip of my toes, where in bold fonts it proclaims that the world will end in fire.

 

Cuncta stricte discussurus.

I cannot stop thinking about stuffed toys beside my bed burning to ash.