Some Poem

My hand smells like gas
What can I do different
Red Cross over blood
Lost writers
Lost writers
Lost writers
Cormac McCarthy would have found words…

Can you tell I am lying to you?
Looking at you and lying to you?
My thoughts? No, I can’t
Except when to do so would harm others
What line to draw?
Yes, I know, I know, I know what to do
Because I am with God from time to time
But I still feel doomed like my dad
It’s all nonsense, he said

Like a fiend, I feel today
Burn down the whole fucking world
But me first
Of course
That’s how the fire starts

You missed the sun again
And sure, it was there
Waiting to warm you as always
Swallow hard and join in one more time
Satan goes down easy
With God’s smile on his back