Poem: "Amen, Bad Luck To You"

The day after I was Saved

after the congratulations and

we're proud of yous and you're so braves

and my mother's relief and elation

and delicate voices to playfully chide me

I felt the sensation 

of something writing inside me

It wasn't the finger of God

writing His laws on my heart

It wasn't some warm and happy feeling

tracing across my being

or a psalm full of fresh air and art

I'm not sure what piece of me

it was writing on,

this thing not a threat, not a treaty

Something not quite as bloody and meaty as a rib

But some just as tangible part

just as touchable

Not quite the soul

Not quite the heart

or some other piece just as glib

It was something dark, for sure,

something separate from God

Not competing for room

or to regain its domain

or proclaim my failure and doom

or map out my guts to forever trod

Whatever it was, all the same

it was only there to write

Amen, bad luck to you.

and leave me as quickly as it came,

at no exceptional time of night

It left its fingerprints 

in its scratchy, scribbled cursive

Though I'm sure it has no power itself

It has no unholy possession or hold

No aim so subversive,

nothing nearly so bold

or bursting with spite and pride

But the message is there

somewhere inside

Amen, bad luck to you.

I can't be persuaded otherwise

that the message wasn't deliberately timed

It came just after Jesus advented

just after the drying of weeping eyes

just after everyone at that potpourri scented

Baptist church told me warm and lovely things

Just after I was Saved

I wasn't gripped by a demon

or met with beginnings of birth pangs

I didn't froth at the mouth and fall in the fire

or so much as double over in pain

When it etched its words inside 

my miscellany and mire 

Amen, bad luck to you.

That was all, and it was gone

unheard from since that day

Like whoever scrawled Sodoma Gomora

on the walls of Pompeii

to tell them they were going to hell

Or whoever painted Viva Cuba

and the last lovey dovey note

of a revolutionary song

on the walls of a prison cell

They were there, inside, they wrote,

and were gone – 

Amen, bad luck to you.

from the book Amen, Bad Luck To You