“on a bus ride into town,
i wondered about “why am i going to town?”
as i looked around on the billboards
and the stories i thought,
“why do i look around?”
i got up and bowed and i kissed the filthy ground
and in the first dry spot i found, i laid back down
without having to wonder why i was laying down.
before long i was too cold,
and so i took a bus back to the station,
i found a letter left by a pay phone with no return contact.
and it read like a horn blown by some sad angel.
“bunny, it was me, it was me who let you down”
it was the shyest attempt i’d ever seen at conversation.
if i didnt have you as my guide,
i’d still wander lost in Sinai counting the plates of cars from out of state.
(how i could jump in their path as they hurry along!)
until you surround me,
you’re pretty but youre all i can see, like a thick fog – if there was no way into god,
i would never have laid in this grave,
a body, for so long.
St. Cyril’s fair always came through the first week of September,
but it’s already the 19th and there’s no sign of it yet.
i have a hard time remembering the things i should remember,
and a hard time forgetting all the things i should forget.
Oh Christ, when you’re ready to come back,
i think im ready for you to come back,
but if you want to stay wherever exactly it is you are, that’s okay too –
its really none of my business.
and if i didn’t have you as my guide, i’d still be wandering lost in Sinai
or down by the tracks, watching trains go by to remind me:
there are places that aren’t here.
i had a well but all the water left,
so i’ll ask for your forgiveness with every breath,
if there was no way into god,
i would never have laid in this grave of a body…so long, dear
“