Chew on the chip
on your shoulder
(gilded fangs/
blood stuck to your lips)
or spit
in the hollowest
heart
(hark! harps! hallelujah!)
Everyone has a song
played at their funeral
(7 score and a quarter dozen
aggravations
all add up/anger
is empty
unless righteous)
but we were born again
to dance
upon the burdens
we’ve been called
to bury
Wake up!
(without alarm)
Stand tall!
(w/humbled pride)
Two tablespoons
of apple cider vinegar
to break the fast/
followed by a glass
of water
with half a lemon
squeezed fresh/
the other portion
sprayed in my eyes
to burn away the beams
(judgment lame and broken/
choke on dead opinions
until they’re flushing
down the drain)
A walk to the park –
smoke with the sun
or bathe in the fire
or come clean in the storm
(Red Moon Fever Dream Visions/
wish you’d let loose
with those whispered Revelations/
hush now, Salvation,
don’t be shy)
“With God all things are possible”
wear your promises
on my skin
as scars
(hold your crown
and your cross
and your chalice
and your stars
and your signs
as high as I can
above my head
while the whole world
crumbles
and arms grow weary
[but I am just a man/
that same old
copycat cop-out
time and time again])