Hymn

Thanks be to you, Derealization, for the night

I swallowed hydrocodone & crawled into bed,

pissed the bed, for the 6:00 AM gas station

& Ms. Nancy who said, “Breakfast?”

to the chocolate pie I put

on the checkout counter.

Austin made me coffee in November

& splashed in some cheap bourbon.

We drank it together on my blue couch

& it was godawful but hot.

Thanks be to you, sweet Tennessee.

You have broken better cherries than I.

Mt. Juliet, new world Jerusalem,

I am in your basement back room & your tornado

with a nasty movie on the TV,

bareback saint getting crucified on the pool table,

this was all happening in the bedroom mirror

& that makes me Jesus Christ.

One Southern summer night

my sweet teamsters carried me back,

carried me just as I had carried them,

at that time being one of the boys.

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