Lance Larsen

At Ease with His Past; At Home with His Art | Edward A. Geary, Goodbye to Poplarhaven: Recollections of a Utah Boyhood

I discovered Ed Geary’s essays by chance — a friend happened to mention them to me: “You’ve got to read them; they’re about growing up in Utah, and they’re excellent.” Curious, but not so curious…

Being Baptized for the Dead, 1974

It throbbed a little, the gash in my left palm. 
I pressed the gauze, something to finger 
while we waited —boys here, girls over there, 
all of us wearing jump suits heavy enough 

Missionary Court

Hunched over and rocking a little, 
he answered the president in stutters, 
and I wrote it all down in the ledger— 
the girl’s name, how many times, my pen touching 

Winter Fast Offerings

When no one was faking sick, we were nine — 
just enough to cover the routes if someone 
doubled up. We argued over the packets, 
weighing thickness against distance, 

Sacrament Prayer

It’s the simplicity I like, no pulpit thunder, 
no fiery “Thou shalt nots” rattling the soul. 
A set prayer, phrases you can roll around 
your mouth all week, then string together 

Hobby Horses

What holds us together is our discourse— 
hints and asides, a whisper in the cloakroom, 
School of the Prophets held across the backyard hedge.
Stealth gives Adam-God a reviving breath, 
let Gog and Magog flex their muscle in the U.N. 

Serving the Papers

They sit in stiff unmatched recliners, 
a faint halo of grease smearing 
the head rests. The Bishop asks again, 
Do you want your names removed? 

Naked

I was expecting ripened avocadoes, Michael, 
or half-used spices—the usual throwaways before
a move. Not a grocery bag of garments, unopened,
each slippery package a skin you never tied on.

from “A Paris Journal”