vote my soul

i took saint jude
to have and hold
as my confirmation ranger
in a clapboard dusty pew church
i attended at parental gunpoint.

c’mon saint j,
i thought under wafer breath
as i slouched to the altar
so a bishop could lay fear
on my bald head
with egg white misery.

c’mon saint j,
patron of dump life
and safety pin girls.
don’t give me an empty wallet,
hip music parents,
some sign you sip my confessor’s cup.

i bent my head shy,
let god’s man brush my forehead
with heavy silver precision,
and i rose saved lashes
to see his distaste.

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