(no, no not out loud.)
(my god, yes, yes out loud) –

Faded denim and
Van Halen,
Big brown eyes
with that deep blink
and five o’clock shadow,
there’s a face I’d wake up to.

I’m going to read to you
he says,
Little Black Book in his hands.
The Sermon on the Mount.
Matthew speaks,
a disciple
a saint
reborn recovered romantic:

when he was set, his disciples came unto him:
and he opened his mouth.

Echoing off the walls of your suburban home
Mother asleep next door.
Mottled carpet,
off-white sheets
(the cape of a king)
draped around your shoulders,

blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness:
for they will be satisfied. 

The lamb that bled for you
I have eaten for dinner,
and knelt before my porcelain throne
to be cleansed from the sin
that no holy Father can forgive;

salt of the earth:
but if the salt have lost its savior,
wherewith shall it be salted?

above the law of God
The Lord
the father we never had
still granting love you cannot know
and the love I
will not
can not

(mistaking my meekness and mercy)
risking a battered conscience,
by declaring me forsaken;

[my] light [has shone] before men
in such a way that
they [have seen my] good works,
and glorify your Father who is in heaven.

I pray you will only consent your
forgiveness when asked for.


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