December 2009
5 posts
your bothers inside, repented on bent knees
while you, a saint, rolled dice down the front steps
worn, torn dollar bill in your palm, you sweat.
SPF 54, hardly strong enough for hell
“i wish” you say. “you lose” i say.
plastic glow-in-the-dark rosary beads wrapped loosely around your wrist
“yeah right” i say. “that’s funny” you say.
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