Monday, November 10, 2014

Prodigal Propitiation

She said take down those poems
No one reads them anyway
As if I were a cigarette butt to crush
With her boot heel
Only she doesn't smoke or wear boots
I don't even smoke, unless you count dreams
And I hung up my steel toes for 
Moccasins, long ago

I drag out a cross and say
Here, nail me to this
For the sins of all men
Sort of the first all-women's Calvary
And I think of the word propitiation

We had our kitchen 
Redone recently and I can't
Remember the word countertop
It comes out sink or shelf
Suddenly I'm cutting onions on
The thing, kitchen countertop
But by god, I'm gonna be a savior
A propitiation

My tongue keeps rolling in my mouth
Like I've seen cow tongues do
Til I think it'll start bleeding
But I doubt they'll write a New Testament over that

On my birthday I got a call
She had bought tickets to
See our team play
Little did I know
Those were my last days
In the graceful land of the uber confident 
Now I'm back where I started 
Doubted by everyone that matters 
Especially me

Welcome home, young man
Let's kill some battered tofu 
Eat, drink and be merry
For tomorrow, the sun may never rise


Sent from my iPhone

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