Psalm 3

O Lord, count for me my foes!
     How many arise!
I hear whispers
     “God won’t rescue him.”
breathe…
But You build your castle around me, O Lord
     You douse me with your light, and lift up my weary head
I cry aloud to the Lord
     And I hear his answer from Holy Hill
peace…
I pass out, asleep
     I awake on my own, for the Lord upholds me
I fear no hundred thousand
     lines surrounding me everywhere
Get up, O Lord!
     My God, deliver!
     swing back and jack my opponents in the jaw;
     Shatter their vicious teeth.
Rescue comes from the Lord
     May your contentment be on your people
breath.

Author: Lancelot Schaubert

Lancelot Schaubert has sold his written work to markets like The New Haven Review, McSweeney’s, The Poet’s Market, Writer’s Digest (magazine and books), Poker Pro, Encounter, The Misty Review, Carnival, Brink, and many other similar markets. He reinvented the photonovel through Cold Brewed and was commissioned by the Missouri Tourism Board to create a second photonovel — The Joplin Undercurrent — that both fictionalizes and enchants the history and culture of Joplin, Missouri. His work terraforms new worlds, tears the veil between the natural and supernatural, and jests with the paradoxes of classical metaphysics. When he’s not writing (or tinkering with cinema-ish narrative), he’s dabbling in dozens of different books, listening to people tell their life stories, camping, fishing, exploring unfamiliar territory (there’s a lot in New York), tinkering with new languages (Spanish, currently), exploring random disciplines like chemical engineering, as well as messing around with improv comedy (at UCB) and leisure de main and music. PLEASE SEND SOUP — he loves soup. Yes, even if it’s summer. Find him in Brooklyn, New York with his wife, Tara, and their attack spaniel, Echo.

More posts by Lancelot Schaubert

Share This Post On