I hardly know where to begin
when miracles are not enough
to make us love the God
we can no longer deny.
My body, sweet little mystery
is not coated in confectioner’s sugar.
I do not wait for love with a whole heart.
Drinking and I are taking a break.
I’m trying to remember I have skin.
I read once that a man stopped eating
meat and drinking wine,
He gave him visions.
I don’t know if God likes to barter.
But I gave Him my whiskey and steak so
He will teach me how to write.
I’ll let you know how it turns out.
I’m falling in love with a deity
who turns rains to flood
and answers most of my questions
Fish does that too,
then takes a drag on her cigarette.
I love her too.
I’m so tired of hope
but it will not go away.
My mother shows up in all my poems.
My father leaves long voicemails
telling me he loves me.
I wonder when things will stop breaking,
as a glass falls from the fridge to the floor.
Living with five women
in the lower east side
makes the shower a small
I let the mirrors fog up.
I keep my eyes closed
and ask God if he wants
The water roars.
God is as close as the ceiling.
We are all alone
as the day we were born.
My father calls
and I answer for the first time