getting out of bed, like there’s no god
forceful, ball of gas burning turning gold, then white
squinting eyes, tilting shadows, killing night
dream is over, the nightmare is dead
no god of mine, in mind, to find
in my head, in my heart, in my bed
today, i’ll forget everything i ever knew
disbelieve everything i’ve ever loved
and say one everlasting prayer —
thanks for putting up with me
good night to you, lord
now i lay you down to sleep.
terra spin, ground movement under way
footwork, artwork, shitwork, clockwork
to the stop of time, to end today
now all things fit together in stride
sinful play is now playground
and it’s finally good outside
fusion furnace of hydrogen, origin unknown
it came from somewhere, but i don’t care
it’s there and it shines down, warms the stone
but it can still be calloused and cold
on the sunny side of stained-glass windows,
where the sun sets like there’s no god
with whispered doubts in hushed breaths,
prayers, for souls to keep in the night
for when we finally lay down and sleep.
(June 20, 1997)