Tuesday, 07 July 2009

• the almost life-long atheist. a poem

  the almost life-long atheist.

  
  

  morals and standards fly as dust through the air

  rotting and peeling and working up through the soil.

  the exquisite corpse laughs at the irony of storytelling,

  a beginning and an end, the cross on the wall

  above him and his knees on the ground

  next to the bed, hands tightly clasped and his

  pleas hit the ground. the dust settles and is wiped away

  for the sake of living in cleanliness.

  for the sake of living a lie.

  for his sake, and for her sake because

  she read that work of literature every goddamned day.

  for the sake of eternity.

  the exquisite corpse laughs at the irony of purity.

  he hobbles to the closet and pulls his nicest sweater

  off its hanger and drapes it over his shoulders

  before crawling back under the covers.

  he wanted to be the center of envy

  in case hell had frozen over.

   

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