|Backstage 60 x 60 x 2 cm mixed media on canvas|
WHAT’S NEXT TO GODLINESS?
When about to lose your mind
you could always meditate, or
contact the congregation’s help desk,
bend your priest’s ear, seek mullah or rabbi
or someone else holier than thou.
But most often you just crawl
off to bed after an apocalypse
of your own confabulation (stubbing your
toe en route or stepping in cat vomit)
thinking I will never get up again,
not worth it, world’s too cruel, then later
mumbling “thanks, man” to your avatar
for orange juice and coffee. Something warm
with butter on it. A slightly rank but fluffy robe
rubbing thin skin each time you light a cigarette.
You live through a legendary madeleine
event in real time when from your
bedroom window you observe a student nurse
splashing in her own baptismal font
and who, rinsing off with a sea sponge, reminds
you of what your stepmother from North
Carolina always used to say: cleanliness is next to godliness.