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YOU DESERVE TO SUFFER Visions of the past floating like dead wood through the river bank of my head Red lace panties and white bra lying on the floor next to the bed Drinking tequila with glasses dipped in salt as I slowly moved down your soft underbelly like a moth courting a light bulb left feeling like a blind man learning braille for the first time I was there the night you put your fist through the window swearing that you saw God in your own reflection yelling mantras no one understood as the people below the window looked up and wondered what the screaming was all about I was there when you hit the guy by the jukebox over the head with a beer bottle leaving seconds before the cops came and though I should have I didn't give them your name I was there the night at the cemetery when you visited the grave of the only man you ever loved and as always, you left a bad taste in my mouth like a blow job artist bent over in a back alley spitting out the seed like an altar boy hiding a wafer under his tongue hoping the priest won't be able to read his thoughts I was there the night you sat alone at the airport with only twenty-five cents in your pocket watching people greet their loved ones at the arrival gate I was there the night they took you away to the Langley Porter Psychiatric Clinic where you soared like a bird in flight never to return to earth as we know it I was there the day the crucifix carrying priest said the black magic mumbo jumbo words over your grave looking like a caterer serving food at an unattended banquet I was there the day they buried you in a shawl of unwritten words Drinking a toast to you long after the others left Remembering that white bra and red lace panties The night we lifted boulders from the chest of Jesus and hurled them into the face of God. A. D. Winans |