my mentor said once a poem can be whatever you want it to be. / so i bury the poem in the river & the body in the fire.

A nickname for God: The Lord Elephant. Lord mule.
Lord’s acres. Hospital Lord. Texas for God Alabama.
God’s sea of blue tarps.

We never learned to see the miraculous, only to wait for it.

My chiropractor tells me, your sternum is shining, meaning that the small bones
in my chest are rotating, overlapping, and moving away from one another—

I don’t know if I made these knuckles for nothing. They came from home.

Like any garment, men have their seasons.
I wear them to pay the rent.