08.24
listening lounging lethargic and holy-
JESUS show me some place to heal and return to,
aside from the rain bucket room of a scoundrel I’ve never loved,
the e-pills and buckets of vomit and the flask and
my father’s blue-collared fists.
JESUS I can’t pray because the soft flesh
beneath the inside of my arm is bleeding, JESUS
speak tangible for once or your daughter
is painting her face tonight in a beaten moth’s reflection,
with poison acidic tundra, a little less from whole again.
JESUS we can’t all be virgins in white blouses you see
my conscience was soiled before I understood,
virtue taken yet he never taught me to speak slowly
or recognize the faces of Rape and so now
JESUS I can only deny you,
this supplication is a scam, these words are but
cut-and-paste atomic differences,
you are listening lounging lethargic and holy-
you point to the light, (yes, I’m lighting the fuse for you) and
inhaling in my red open mouth because JESUS, I recognize a smirk
and it was never really in your mind to stop me anyways.