Sunday

Today the boy, wanting to stay tuned, grabbed the VR Sweating profusely, needed a washcloth bathing Boys don’t enjoy Sundays but they do after all The class in awe of Revelation, wanting more fruit, casserole, sweets and godly treats We were at the movies when the sermon broke in and we wept as the sinners waded into the baptismal Back home, the grabster and the friend on other end A friend, who knows not him Sitting with my wine in a boot, or something like that Watching Martha, feeling sorry for her but elated for she related to the prisoners It is dark now and rain’s now in my boot I take a sip and fall asleep or rather write a poem, from the hip* *from the hip - to act impulsively, like drawing a gun from the holster.