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.
Jun 18, 2011
Jun 18, 2011 at 8:12 PM UTC
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.
- From Anna and the Symphony
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