Say, Amen!
A Story-Poem

The ticking of the clock rubs its way into my dreams. I scratch the stubble on my chin and wonder about our future together. We are lost in a field of wild flowers. Time is a mechanism to hold us prisoners and to keep us from understanding the answers to the eternal questions. God is not our Maker, or the giver of life. He is an old man sitting on a dilapidated throne, smiling at the silly jokes of His queen. And yet, you have constructed an altar in His honor. You have sacrificed your blood for His love. I dance on your grave and pray for the salvation of your soul. The devil is a cardboard character cutout from a cereal box and given to the masses. You were my lover in the autumn of our years and taught me how to lie to myself. We walked casually through the field of wild dreams and made love in the heart of a rose. Listen and do not forget. The time of the rebellion is at hand. The clocks have been set and God has given authorization for the unleashing of the demons. I stand with sword in hand, ready to slice through the flesh, and open the hearts of thousands. You laugh at my craziness and wish me success on my journey into some distant future that will not be written into the history books. God has dementia and has forgotten His promise to the children that loved Him and called Him Blessed. You take me into your arms and pull me tight against your breasts. We whisper in the dark about the times we almost lost our sanity and beg for forgiveness beneath the darkened moon. Climb the ladder through the layers of clouds in the heart of heaven and check if God is still sleeping. The clock is ticking. The game is over. The crown has been stolen. I kiss your lips and piss all over myself. Thank God for laundromats. Say, Amen, my child.
Copyright © 2020 by Harley King





