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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required 50 cartridges of Nitrous oxide the old drunk called it hippie crack One spun case after another dozing in the bed His brain pulsing, blood starting to boil Menudo from the spiritual Mexicans cured his hangover smoked some weed covered the stillborn kitten with a laundry basket Sipping bottom shelf gin Eyes half open slurring words through crooked grins cracked teeth exposed.. He kisses the sacred heart of Jesus And chugs the backwash From the empty cans Lining his bedside Lola comes home from saturday mass He can smell the familiar smell Of pork adobo creeping through the vents Half asleep He joins her at the table “BLESS US O LORD, AND THESE THY GIFTS, WHICH WE ARE ABOUT TO RECEIVE, FROM THY BOUNTY, THROUGH CHRIST OUR LORD…” And before he could say amen the feeling of vomit coating his mouth Stops him in an instant She makes his plate And stares at him in silence As if knowing But never says a word When he wakes up He can smell the lit candle that sits In the corner of the wall Where she prays Next to his bedroom door Ave maria, Ave maria! She looks to the holy mother talks to the statue about the sins of her sons And goes to bed with a tired heart Whiskey bleeding through his pores He feels a pull toward the tiny baptist church Near the center of town on the corner of Pecan St He throws his shoes on slurs the act of contrition and goes to sit amongst the honkie kin of Luther The thought of communion crosses his mind still unsure whether its withdrawals or the spirit pulling him to partake in the sacred blood He invokes St Joseph reaches for the rosary in his pocket fumbling its beads as they collide with beer caps from the night before After the service he walks along the hwy committed to the act of penance each step a pilgrimage going nowhere in particular faithful to the spirit regardless..
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