Dr. Quigley in the Coffee Shop

Dr. Quigley is in the coffee shop
again, this time on the hunt:
he needs a cupcake for the soul.

His wondering eye notices desserts
in the glass case,
pastries like odes sit and wait for a whisper-

take me, I’m yours, they say,
everything he needs to hear-

kiss me on the river Styx,
now he is in love-

yes, there is love in Hades
and he has found it:
poets are there
working in droves
to lift the language
of what should not have been
done here
into what should be said
in Hell-

but Dr. Quigley remembers a day
that was so perfect
he could have bought vowels
by staring at stars-
or rearranged the music in his mind
just by catching a fish-

always, for him, it is light,
a certain quality of light
that inspires the language
of his alphabetic mind:

light, for vowels
shadow, for consonants

until he sees Jesus on the cross
and spells Hallelujah:
all vowels and a luminous L-
no sense in going to Hell.