Behavioral Health, 4:29 pm

Every waiting room is holy.
 
As for me I need a priest
or better still his Father
who can give me both story and love
without love stories.
I need a sermon on a grievous sinner
given over to sacred strength
the one voted least likely to turn saint.
 
Lately I see the appeal of martyrdom.
I’d trade these slowly clogging losses
for zealous cause
a righteous war to die in 
a burning building to run into.
How many heroics are suicides, God?
How long do I wait here?
 
Tell me, oh God, of a grizzly haloed death.

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