Quick Repent

Cheers God

For the cold bite of the Viper

And all my wasted talent

For dedicated nothingness

And figurines in smithereens.

Thank you

For always being honest

In the way you always say:

‘When I tell the truth I’m dishonest.’

And Cheers God

For this orchestra of Thunder

And all my silly fairytales

For waking up on blood and stone

And snow slides down the hillside.

Thanks to her

I’m not the thing I once was

By saying those three words:

‘I adore you and despise you more.’

And Cheers God

For gypsies, ants and Homelessness

And all my tax evasion

For setting bullshit questions

And pretty girls in modern curls.

Thanks to him

I’m walking round a circle

All that wisdom thrown:

‘It’s not about the money, son.’

Cheers God

For making all these dying plants

And all my damn addictions

For psychopaths and days of spring

And windowsills and miracles.


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