He has nothing now,
the parlors of sin are unforgiving. The only
father I have had will sleep upon a bible,
by the light of a forgotten hallway. The men
smell of old memories and darkness, their faces
are numbers. 01-23-099, 01-23-100, 01-23-101,
God visits his cell,
stretches his arm out eight feet
to the window as small as a human eye,
but the only father I have ever had will not
see him. Who can?
I do not believe in God, do you?
My only father hung himself and it
ended up in the news. He died, he was
awoken, and now he is dead again.