Listen —
the child was a goner anyway.
Delivered breathless
a scrawny purple thing
half this
half that.

Immersed in air three times
anointed with iodine
he was named Μιχαήλ.
There and then.

His father performed the procedure himself —
twin incisions
on the soft of his neck
under tiny ears.
The child’s a goner anyway.

The Archangel intervened.

And so my father
let out his first sound.