Regress

Dear God I'm sorry for my sins and for eating all the cookies

after climbing up staired waterfalls with a broken knee

and the great modern maidens as emissaries

despatched us with loopholes and salad leaves -

twelve pairs of shoes upon us, my mother and me

that we ate with solace and without anonymity

and only the sound of masticated memories,

still hungry with the vermin ressuscitated within

and the eulogy escaping always from my skin.

The apology stands accused in reiteration

Perhaps it's absolvence you require

perhaps you require nothing-

in the great walk I I thought I heard the end call my name

from a young life young no more biting its tail

so I watched dogs converse to no resolution

their discourse at times sterile, often impudent

but without the characteristic eating which would pertain the diction

and in the moon that will keep me from sleep

I drowned and felt sorry for laughing.