Jesus and Co.
Great Rose of Sharon,
The lion sigil of Judah,
Take me now mighty man,
Don’t let her take me whole,
Save the heart,
Save the face,
And the fingers for the art.
I will die in this fight,
Or from the hunger of this great loving.
She will contaminate my work,
I will become like one of them,
Little spirit and too much noise.
But on account of this woman,
I’ve fallen hard into this dark
lair of sticks and snakes and debt,
I smile for the horsefly friends and tight mothers,
to check dates and markers,
Abide the ritual of refined civility,
And the affliction of smiling people,
Political correctness abides fervently,
And not a drop of whiskey is on the table.
Sweet Jesus and Co.
Don’t let me show up with a fine story and some soul,
Don’t let the fallen branch evade the car by inches,
Don’t let that blizzard stay another day,
Don’t let me make it from the sweet embrace of Morpheus,
Don’t let them ask of the source of my daily bread.
For they will bring out my worst,
In venues I sincerely despise,
Among faces I can never fully esteem,
With names I will never recall,