It’s been raining in California for three days
This morning I left a bowl of cherry seeds
on the counter as a confession of my hunger
Winter seems to come later every year
I invent new withdrawal symptoms to mark the days:
the roof of my mouth, cold as a razor. A bruise
just below my left cheekbone. A missing rib.
My body is slowly crucifying itself, so
I tell my mother I am saying thank you & flossing
the red pulp & cocaine from my gums & not smoking
The weathermen predict the sun will return
on Tuesday, they are the closest thing we have to prophets
I often wonder if Isaiah ever tried to monetize God
Two goats and a mantle of sheep’s hair in exchange
for a revelation
Surviving is a lonely profession; will you teach me
how to get over this desire to be
a Man, or rather, a wealthy Man
who holds a bag of radishes beneath this California
rain in black suede shoes?
Do you see how He gains abundance with every line?
I promise I am not sad, I promise
The cherries were glorious this morning, remember
the seeds? Remember the bowl?
This is the life I’ve always longed for
Do you believe me?
They are developing a collection of poems titled The New American Gospel, and hold a BA in Playwriting from Emory University. They currently reside in Brooklyn, NY.