lowlife got me all tangled up in veins
with that heart beating up my neck
i strain for courtesy,
and it’s like overcast first day
of fall every morning and i
can’t see

the pursuit of god is
utterly quixotic
though many men
would gladly Don
their silver suits
and grab their Sanchos
and race off into the
windmill-scattered
sunset;

i promise when i
wake up i will be
new again : i will
not disappoint you
for god is not above
nor is he below;
not at all without.
god is within.