Not an Elegy

I’d write an elegy, but no one

Close to me has died. 

I look inside at my heart.

It is very much alive.

It is my mind that deceives me

Into feeling otherwise.

Like a gravedigger that hears rumors of a dying man

And digs his grave preemptively,

So my mind digs into the heart

And tricks my flesh into a constant fear.

And yet, the tides of my soul ebb and flow.

The sun rises, and I look upon the many splendors

Of the world. The gravedigger rests upon 

His shovel and catches his breath

And all the sorrows I have known

Are blown away by a sweet gust of morning wind.

Bible Stories Revisited

I.

And God said: “Let there be light.”
And there was light, and it was good.

Then someone said: “Yo!
How ‘bout a little fucking privacy!”

And God turned out the light,

And it was good.

It was damn good.

 

II.

Abraham took his son Isaac to Mount Moriah

To sacrifice him to God,

But an angel came down and said,

“Nah. Just cut off his foreskin.”

 

III.

Daniel was cast into the lion’s den,

So he whipped out a fat sack

And smoked those mother fuckers up.

 

IV.

Job was a blameless man

‘Till God took everything away from him.

Then he took a shotgun up to Heaven

And busted a cap in God’s ass.