phantom hope

a million miles of static on

pilate’s radio but the fucker wants to dance

tells you the crucifixion is

all in your mind

says it’s a waste of time

being in love with an addict

thirty years and nothing to show for it but

cold sunlight down early morning streets

st elizabeth on her hands and knees

and crawling into the ocean in
some warmer corner of the world

silver chains and a cross of

gold and what if she can’t
remember her child’s name?

what if every moment is

the one that matters most?

you stumble through each one blind

only to end up lost

only to end up holding your

father’s ashes
in the middle of the freeway

a million miles of static in every

direction and that fucker judas with
his hand up your lover’s skirt

with his teeth filed down to

chrome points and his
tongue dripping poison

gives us all one last kiss

then says goodbye