Believe in Something
As quickly as the last drop
of a sink full of water
disappears from sight,
the gratitude that he'd
soared in earlier that day
was gone.
A memory that somehow
embarrassed him.
The suckers gave a fuck,
and the weakest of them
said it out loud.
A memory of one
of the lives he had led,
came distinctly into focus,
rare.
He'd been so many people.
A crowded three a.m. room
rented by the week,
or the hour,
no over night
out of town guests
for years.
A couple of girls who
had called it done deal-
the freakiest and the frightening
owned this shameful portion
of night,
and a stick up kid,
and Lil' Black and him,
staring each at their own
crusted glass pipes.
The pennies sat ready,
and hard working racks.
"There is no joy
in this world, and
there is none that come
after."
The drugs the only escape
from a shoulder pressed
loneliness of the others
like him.
No one heard, or cared,
for philosophical waxing.
Living was just doing time.
No expected
day of release
and only the darkness
loved them.
The darkness alone
would hold him at night.
And he barely mustered
the faith of her coming
again.
No greater sin
in this sick church
than to believe
in something.
The penance too costly
to pay.
