our lady

the bulb burned out
right in the middle of
a sentence.
i was still talking, lady.
it wasn’t fair.

i bought replacements
a long time ago.
so i rescued them from the
hall closet and
screwed one in, snapped
you back over your
modern-day candle.

my smoke was still smoking
my glass was half full
i plugged you in and
pop!
a bad bulb.

could’ve taken it for a sign
but then
i never know when to quit
it’s why they all
give up on me.

i shuffled
down the hall
with the fumes
in my head
burped some acid
alcohol
and got three more bulbs.

ripped the plastic open
and screwed another one in
bit my lip so hard
i tasted iron.
plugged you in
and held my breath
and you lit up
like you’d never left.

my lady, our lady
if i can get another bulb
and another,
how about you
throw me a bone?

but every time
i take another drink
my lip, it stings
and i watch your smile.

as usual
you keep your mouth
shut.

dear virgin,
let’s talk.

you’re a bulb and
a plastic shield. how
do you smile even
when you’re unplugged?

i want to go
to church.
but
god, that bastard
will hit me
if i cross
the threshold.

besides
they don’t open churches
at one a.m. here
in the cold.

so i stay at home
light another smoke
take another swallow
the whiskey burns
its way down.

and i talk to you.

they say you hear
all the cries
of the world.

they say you are
mercy itself.

so tell me
why can’t you be
the one in charge?
the last thing
we need
between stars exploding
with nuclear force
and everything eating
everything else
down here
is more violence.

was there
a corporate takeover?
do you look at the
direction he’s taken
the company in
and cringe
while you listen to our
screaming?

senora, my lady, virgin, please
please

find some balls
and fix some things
down here.

i’ll stay here
all night
with the bottle
and the ashtray
and the haze
in the air
if it will make you
do it.

the rain talks, a
mouthing mumble,
hard on the gutters
rushing water.

senora, you and i
we’re going to have
to come to an agreement.

i need a little mercy
not just a benign
smile.

the smile’s cheap
you just paste it on
and get through the
day.

right now
every shred
of good
i’m getting
comes from
jack daniels.

nuestra senora,
if you want
to give him
a run for his
money, you
better start
steppin up.

dear virgin,

you’re still
smiling. still
calm, and
blue-robed
and still
immaculata.

you’re
still
a nightlight.

i am still unable
to sleep
even though
my eyes are deserts
and my back, well,
and then there’s
my heart.

work was
work, screaming
kids and
jumpy mothers
and men
yeah, men
who piss on the sides
of toilet seats.

but i’m home.
four walls,
and you. i
tried to eat
but it was too dark
and then you
were the only thing
holding back
black curtains.

every time i
light another
smoke the shadows jump.
they have
shinydark teeth.

at least you’re
keeping the
werewolves out.

for five ninety nine
and a replacement bulb
that’s pretty good.

you’re not talking tonight.
it’s okay.

i’ve got enough to say
for both of us.

oh nuestra senora
my lady
please
just keep listening.

dear virgin,

let’s talk.

we have it kind
of rough
down here.
we just can’t seem
to stop hurting
ourselves
and everyone
and everything else.

i’d ask your intercession
but look how well that turned
out the first time.
i’d ask you to explain,
but that language
barrier, it’s pretty
high, and your bossdaddy
has this thing about
vengeance for questions.

so there’s nothing, really
except sometimes
i look at the nightlight
your painted face
those blue robes
your calm smile
and i want to smash you
and i want you to hold me
all at once.

i don’t know how
you could help.
maybe i’m better off

just lighting another smoke
and talking to
a goddamn nightlight
while i wait for
dawn.