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.