when i 16
i was too busy playing house
graduating early from high school
so i could get a head start
on destroying my life
marrying imitation fathers
in search of heavenly normalcy
backed a moving truck up
to the childhood house
saying to mama and the deacons
it’s too late to start parenting now
what a goddamn idiot i was
but one does what one must to survive
twenty years later here i stand
my shit as together as it will ever be
teacher mortician mother madame poet
exposer of the world’s bullshit and glory
to my knowledge hungry sons
i stopped looking for god when i realized
it exists in the light of what makes us happy
so tonight i will venture out
after the house has gone to sleep
a flask buried deep within my heart
to find religion in music
a guitarist weeping
a drummer bleeding
a front man giving communion
and me
the punk believer
heels traded in for
strapped on
burgundy docs
to be baptized in sweat and bruises
no, i’m not an easy read
the only thing i’m proud of
are my fucking scars