She blessed me around midnight
in the blood and excrement
under the blood moon to the invisible
sounds of dogs chained
to their wheel of barking dystopia.
Broken foot
I was in the middle of a goddam
beauty pageant and not even that
gave me pleasure
Broken foot
He blessed me
his Californian hands holding my head
in beatific prayer Jesus saves
he thundered as I sat between the pain
and lust, and all I thought about
was having sex one last time before
I die.
Broken foot
The man in the horror of horrors
where every lost soul beat at the door
to hell blessed me with
don't worry, everything is going
to be cool, his prayer
I dug the most.
Ken, this is an absolute stunner - love the visual and vivid images running all the way through. The stanza re thinking about having sex one last time before death - that is gold!
ReplyDeleteHi Kristen sorry for not replying sooner sometimes I do the poem and don’t look at comments . It was part of that Indian story I wrote a few back I like images I don’t have a lyrical bent I want to tell stories
DeleteHa. Love your stories. But you do have a lyrical bent! :)
DeleteThanks my dear friend
ReplyDelete