Monday, October 2, 2023

Lent by PW Covington

It is the first Saturday
Morning of Lent
I am having King cake for breakfast
Along with left-over Bourbon dregs
And ice-melt water
From a glass stained with bright pink lipstick

Ash stains on my pillowcase with bronzer smeared
Rusty razor tilt awhirl
Sacrifice sacrament subjective in these
Late winter, fresh year, daylights
The tiny, hidden, Christ child
Found face down  

Clinging to the soggy butt of a Marlboro Light
Fully submerged in a rocks glass
For Lent




PW Covington writes in the Beat tradition of the North American highway. He lives in Albuquerque, New Mexico, two blocks north of Historic Route 66.
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1 comment:

  1. Tidal Pool PoetSeptember 12, 2024 at 4:50 PM

    Just gettin' through winter is it's own religion. Good poem.

    ReplyDelete

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