O (Holy) Father This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

I frown at the bloody little bone under my pillow
Because

That stuffy cigarette smoke-filled night,
The tooth fairy forgot to visit,
And God began to die.

At dawn I heard His feet stick to the linoleum kitchen floor.
The chapped sound of a sticking cupboard.
Something shatters.
“Goddamn.”

I called to God
But He didn't answer.

So I prayed for Him
But God was dying.

And if God is dead He is dead.
And the logic makes the little empty space in my gum pulse uncomfortably.

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback