isn't it time
for penitence?
I just forget everything
and don't talk to anyone
except for you, dear Lord, you are my ball and chain
having died and come back again I get to look back
watching old movies of myself,
sleeping last night off, leg twitching
dreaming of moving along a motorcade of immanent death
one by one getting flat tires, running out of gas, suddenly the battery
dies
I get out of the car, look around, and see, to my surprise
a loved one's love looking back at me, twisting in the wind, empty, alone, drunk,
its my father or mother lifting my brother or sister from the back seat to the front, carelessly driving, ceaselessly swerving
towards the waterway
if it wasn't for the guardrail, we'd all be dead
time is a ritual now, and it hurts to come back to life, to feed the living,
to get dressed in day-old church clothes, to hit back, as one sneers at being sneered at, I pick up the Daily and skim the headlines, Lost and All Alone, A Stranger Takes a Dive, toss the rag and head to work, fixing to lie to my boss about being sick, about tasting olives, about who I am.