War Poet.ca - A CFAP Project by Suzanne Steele

Lazarus (16)

Lazarus falls, really falls
it’s summer and along the shore
jagged rock rocky shore
he slips. too much beer

he’s supposed to build a fire
(his manliness was missed-
it was the shits ordering herself around)
and his ribs hurt so Goddamn much

well one rib in particular
not broken because he can breathe
but bruised and cracked bad enough
so he can’t find ease

a firepit sparks and crackles
a little contained shitshow
he stares down at the red coals
imagines it’s another AO

he feeds his fire
he pours the holy ghost a shooter,
he feeds the make believe,
but the rib, the cracked rib aches,
bothers him very, very much.

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The page you're reading contains a single diary entry entitled Lazarus (16). It was posted here on August 18, 2011.


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