INRI

by Mike Lala

A name is something
     you can’t crawl out
from under.

It binds you
     to yourself.

Is that what
     Christ felt
in the garden?

Did his cup
     say this
Is your blood?

“I am
     what you say
I am.”

That was his
     moment of Truth.

A name is something
     you can’t crawl out
from under.

It is nailed above you
     until someone
lets you down.

Michael Lala grew up mostly in the western United States and Tokyo, and studied writing in Michigan. He currently lives and curates the critically acclaimed, seasonal reading series Fireside Follies in Bushwick, Brooklyn, and is assembling a forthcoming volume of poems for Knickerbocker Circus Publishing. His work has appeared in the Red Cedar Review, The Offbeat, and elsewhere, and his collaborative photo project with Katelan Foisy, Lie & Indite, can be viewed at lieandindite.tumblr.com. He can be reached at lalamichael@gmail.com.