Wounded Angels

“The most human holy man you could ever meet, and the most fun.” — Herbert Lomas, from the Foreword

Truth, in Murray Bodo’s title poem, is a wounded angel. These poems carry the reader from a New Mexico boyhood of junkyard Dodges, Dad’s rifle and the Southwest Chief, through London and Assisi, to the inner city of Cincinnati, a homeless shelter at Christmas and a world at war.

With a foreword by the English poet Herbert Lomas, Bodo’s friend of thirty-five years, and an epigraph from Jorge Luis Borges promising that a book this full of beauty will hold at least one secret line worth keeping to the end.