Sick Angel —

I dreamt of angels

flinging disease like seeds

Planting rot beneath crosses

& ripening with fleas

Picked from the dirt

while rigid hands crack

Thrown into the air

like confetti bands or tacks

With strands of hair

knotted in faithful laces

As sin drips like drool

into flowered vases.

I dreamt of angels mating

needling syrup into my veins

Pouring salt over my eyes

& sweetening my remains

With bone spurs on the move

amongst congealed thoughts

While earwax is licked like candy

on a playground where I am caught

Inside the sticky neck of desire

as it begins to pool the leftover wake

Just as faith slips the stranded knots

of sin’s hopeless, drenched take.

I dreamt of the light

I saw only concrete

I’ve seen time in respite

I dream, always, in the middle

of a hustling street

along abandoned property