I'll hear your confession.

I'll tell you how to punish you,
wipe the sin side clean of bits and pieces
left when the corpse is buried.

a knock on my attic walk up
no good reason for a visit

I'm in arrears with child support.
I might join the Army if nothing else.
Maybe I'll believe in God and pray
for a miracle at bedtime on my knees.

I'll drink a 12 pack and smoke Lucky's
and read Peoples Almanac listening
to Beethoven and Holst.

I wrap my arms around my tears
raining upon my misery. I'm in no
position to make demands. I beg
you to unfold me upon me until
they see the real me as you do. You
knew me with Virginity before you
took it from me and left me to bleed
from the wound that never goes away.
It never shows mercy and kills us.
It leaves the smell of blood perfume.