The Leper Speaks
It’s a lovely day,
think I’ll take a walk across the Jordon,
walk on water for awhile, heal a leper,
and bend daddy’s rules
for just an hour maybe two.
I am the God no one knows.
I try to wipe clean
my miseries and unclean fantasies.
Plunge my nakedness into the river,
deep and pungent the smells of man
never leave the swirling slicks,
oils of our fathers and their fathers.
Mother Mary stopped by in her Vera Wang
fresh off the hangers at Saks on Fifth
snug yet quite revealing
the cross of her father’s.
City lights burn yellow in darkness
the lights leave but not the yellow
LA my kind of town
pimps and whores, rock n roll
designer jeans for short fat men
like me and my uncle
he’s dead now