shit where I’m from all you had
to do to make a man
                                        disappear

            was give him the love of a good woman
            and a little temptation from a bad one

and that ain’t a trick
of nothing except two

            stars snapping their fingers
            together at the right rhythm

and before you know it,
everybody gonna find themselves

            behind a new curtain.
            The first funeral is when you sweat

through a suit on stage and the women don’t even bother
screaming. Everything that comes after is just waiting.

            I seen the future too once and wasn’t nothin’ there
            except a trail of broken hearts calling me daddy.

I seen progress and all I got is these empty rooms. Don’t let
all that begging fool you, baby. I didn’t never want forgiveness

            or any type of heaven that didn’t wash off with a sunrise.
            In a field somewhere, I imagine all the parts of myself I left behind

writhing themselves back together. And that’s the trick.
You make yourself a god to someone new

            every night and then before you know it, you can write
            your own bible. I was building a grave this whole time and you all

were too drunk on the howling of naked
skin to notice. It takes a man to go home

            and die. It takes a man to drain the light from his mother’s eyes
            while blood makes the outline of a small boy’s hand on her Sunday dress.

In this version of the gospel, the flood is already there.
In this version, Noah opens the doors to the ark and begs

            the animals to come inside but they shake their heads
            and march into the drowning one by one.