Poets Should Have at Least One Anger Poem ~ Audrey Lorraine

When I was younger my brother came home

smoke riddled stupid, burnt cig ashed to holes

through his blue striped t-shirt, dad was lying

around forty miles from us drinking his holy

water, praising god for pussy and divorces,

to the black robes in that courtroom I’ll say it

one more time so it’s true: my daddy prayed to

jesus for nimble fingers and the love of god,

he got it, harsh rubbed prints all over that little

body god granted lust, rewarded fulfillment,

revelations from the back of a cop car brought

me to heaven I shot Cain, cradled Abel.

Miss Nancy from across the street preaching

forgiveness and acceptance watch this, daddy

taught me what middle fingers mean, my brother

learned it in full, watch that house burn down,

bibles in it, with the bread shoved down his throat

watch how he begs, where he learned it from.

If you catch sight of me in church a week from

now, just know that Heorot’s got shit all on my

fathers favorite daughter, I’ll be sweeping in

stalking low aiming to kill, if there’s no blood

on the walls I’m not finished.