Breakfast at Wendy's

 

I was born into this womb of a world

And kept alive by a wannabe doctor

That’s the best I can say

About one's contribution

Fed from the pulpit

One Sunday at a time

I wasn’t fed poison or medicine

It was more like chips and soda for breakfast

And microwaved lasagna and fruit punch for dinner

Without blushing or sarcasm

It's what the doctor ordered

Excom

Is it possible

He married a pagan

To subdue and humiliate?

All was grand until her first episode

The box opened and never shut without medication

For many years he cared for her

Like a drunk german shepherd 

Migrating from the Czech republic

To old steel mills with pride and headship

For many years he loved her

And she felt loved as long as she wasn’t anxious

And he often made her anxious

With his bitter barks

Please hand me a pillow to shove down a throat

To silence and comfort us all

God only knows what we saw and heard

At home and while driving

God only knows her bite was as nasty as his bark

Couldn’t he try to empathize or listen?

At some point that became impossible

She was crazy

He tried everything but a straightjacket 

And tenderness and humility

Vulnerability in the face of shame

He even wailed and cried for demons to be cast out

And it didn’t work

She was possessed with crazy Love

All that was needed to reciprocate love:

Change into the prince she needed

It makes perfect sense if you think about it

Oil and water mix perfectly

He’s oil. She’s water.

He’s anointed priest and patriarch of the Lord’s lost tribe

She’s baptized to serve and bathe in submission

To offer her last lepta for salvation

And birth a man-child for kidnapping, if need be

So the Spirit turned water into wine

To make him drink a cup of fury 

Before pouring it over his head

And so, what came to be in response to the beloved’s anointing?

A wife was found to meet and help

To frame mischief with a law

A court set up to accuse and excuse

Witnesses reared to testify

To put her to death

And they did, like compliant little pups

Who imagined their mother abandoned them for demons

Good riddance, they thought

Now we can finally have a real Christian home

Save me

 

Most holy Lady, mother of mine

My soul fills with sorrows

I want to say something good

Because there is good to be spoken

But good necessitates beauty

And every time we talk or text

Or meet in person

He’s predictably awkward and ugly

I could say that to his face

But he can’t see the good in it

What else could I say?

To his face, I could cry

Saying he never has changed

He has never listened

He has never learned

Although he’s intelligent

And has ears that hear

He uses both to posture peculiarly

Sometimes politely, to not appear so strange

Most times, to be the expert in conversation

Far less, though, to sit in the seat of the scornful

That would be good to say

But he can’t receive it favorably

As the wounds of a friend

It’s just another wounding

An opportunity for imprecation

Like Saul clutching the spear

He’s tough and fearless as a lion

And fierce in battle as the unicorn

Yet tired of battling within his home

For respect and guidance

For trust and honor

What now can be done now that he is exposed?

You tried to honor him

But he would not listen

You pleaded obsessively for him to learn

But he never could imprecate himself

And this time he can’t silence you

Your voice has gone out into all the world

Crying in a wilderness of error

Will there be change from now on?

I cry out to you, O Physician

I acknowledge your works of wonders for the dead

She describes your mercy in the grave

And your truth in destruction

Intercede for us sinners

Our souls draw near to Hades

Do not forsake us sinners

O God, forgive us our sins

And have mercy on us.

Thank me later

 

Many think I’m crazy

Am I really?

I merely record moments

and paint punctiliar seasons

like the tree I see here and there,

the one planted along channels of water.

What I feel, I bleed out,

scratched onto thin slices of its innards:

Pain, trouble,

confusion, certainty,

embodied and at peace

in mystery and glorious favor.

There’s more to life than facts and physics,

making math reality.

My systematics are securely obscure,

like millions of pounds of rain,

floating above a desert

and I don’t care when it drops a tear,

or if it ever does

because the dead are raised,

the impious destroyed,

the living reign with us

into the ages of ages;

and there is not a God damn thing anyone can do to change that.

—S-E-L-F-C-O-N-T-R-O-L—

 

 

I’m working on it

Nibbles of taste buds at a time

don’t seem to be as effective

as jawbones lopping off lengua

and knitting it back together

with toothpicks

Bite your tongue, they say.

I have, many times. 

See this stitch?

And this one, ad infinitum?

If you pick these sutures apart

I bleed, too.

And so would she.

That’s why I wear the beads of her hands

of gold and white,

elasticated and easy to snap,

suffocating my skin every day.

We actually feel pain, you know.

Rowing toward God

 

I put you to death

At a time when I didn’t read

In a time when I couldn’t write

For a time when I couldn't swim

Yet I believed, because it was for the greater good

Because you wanted to go away and had already left

I was told it was for the greater good

I then agreed to be a witness

To do what had to be done

To care, even though I didn’t care

To help common sense prevail

I became an able body

I was cruel enough to end you

And grab that pen

Agreeing to put my name on your certificate

And nod my head before others

I charged you with facts fed to me

I witnessed against the Lord’s anointed 

To save a family that was damned

To put away those problems of yours I hated

To escape my own

I just wanted you to go away

I had a unique signature to contribute

So I sat and listened to my letter

After it was written

Without coercion

Without remorse

Without excuses

Twenty years later

Let's make peace

It’s so simple what I ask for ….

Admit you grumble and complain

About that destructive lamb

that bleats incessantly

Standing in the corner

plugging his ears

Promise me you won’t 

do that around me

Although you made clear 

many times

That won’t be a problem

Admit you knew I wanted 

to play that role

And you overstepped your role 

in this team effort

You took the project over 

and pushed me away

Admit that you knew 

it was my role 

to reformat the prayers

Even though

You still have not 

prevented me at all

from doing so

And that really hurts my feelings 

because I really wanted to do that

Apologize and let me know 

you trust my leadership

that I don’t have 

which I imagine I do

Let me know you will follow 

my leadership

Can you do this 

unreasonable, irrational 

demand of mine?

I can’t be part of your rivalry 

with that strangled cat in the corner

Nor can I work with someone 

who does not respect my leadership

which is entirely illusory 

Can you understand that?

I’m the reasonable one; 

I’m the pious one, the lowest of all, 

with visions of perfect prayer

Your actions which I won't specify

in this chimera of mine 

Toward that pathetic creature and me 

are so hurtful to me

I cry benedictine tears 

of penthos

and you don’t care

Even though you’ve been very clear 

about caring justly 

and thinking clearly

To not think less of one's self

but to think rightly of one's self 

as true humility

This is not a healthy relationship 

We can make peace

It’s easy: let’s make peace

Glory to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit, 

now and always, and forever and ever. Amen. 

Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia. Glory to you, O God.

Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia. Glory to you, O God.

Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia. Glory to you, O God.

Lord, have mercy. Lord, have mercy. Lord, have mercy. 

Glory to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit, 

now and always, and forever and ever. Amen.