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Stale
Night fell on the concrete lot
Smoking a cigarette, I found god
He looked worse for the wear
But who am I to compare
He told me to ask him anything I want
I asked him for a billion dollars and a lunch
He didn’t seem all that amused
But I wasn’t trying to be funny
He left
Walking off with a burnt-out cigarette
Hanging like a prophecy from his old, dry lips
I curse god a lot, I know
I like to poke fun at the crazy tyrant
He just pisses me off, acting like that
He’s so serious
And so mean
I think part of it is that
I see so much of him in me
And I hate it!
It’s always embarrassing to see oneself
In the Father
And embrace it
The disappointment stings
Like no other
So I finish my cigarette
As he hops in the cab
He flips me off as he leaves
And I call after him
“Bye, Dad.”
