hot rain,
like chipped edges
of stained glass,
sink into shoulder.

the bluebird croons
a monotone dirge,
and
I snicker at the wind's applause.

god arrives late,
but I give him credit for
showing up.

god arrives late.
I, in the process of
shutting the gate.

god arrives late.
I **** in my gut,
bury my hate.

hot rain,
like my mother's tears,
sink into my skull.

the bluebird clears his throat,
and
I imagine strangling the showboat.

god arrives late,
but it takes courage to come at all.

god arrives late,
but hands me a check to keep quiet.

god arrives late,
asks me what I've been up to,
and I take the bait.