say a prayer
for my liver
and baby jesus
the house is filled with
the smell of cloves
and christmas lights
otis redding is singing
his clenched fist version
of white christmas
to a poet
the holidays
are as close as you come to death
all year
as we feel
joy, pain, absence
magic & loss
to the thousandth degree
enough to assault
a rude motherfucker doing wrong
with a quart of eggnog
in a supermarket at 7 pm
enough to almost die
while writing this poem
4 replies on “say a prayer”
I’d rather have a prayer for your liver than baby jesus; he already gets his fair share. My liver is going to go through hell tonight, and well-deserved I must say, and if I find a wrongdoer, I will reach for the bottle of rye and let them have it. You have inspired me that much. This is the last time I am going to tell you that your poems are always, always awesome, and just crackling with energy. Just assume it from now on. And do stay alive please.
I’ll do that, Trent. I’m left in awe of your comments. Effusive suits you. Honored, sir…
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry
You rock, my friend.
Thank you.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry