God, the father, wore me out with deadly wrath and beatings
Kisses from a warlord mouth, nightmarish monster head.
It came down to him or me, whispering to his guns, I plotted.
It would be ok to kill him, he wouldn’t have to see the rape
By a brother out of his mind like Cain, leaving me for dead
Never quite completing the murder, I was a sexual scapegoat.
My catholic Mom, her pantheon of miraculous love and light:
Frank of the Stigmata, Mary of the Impossible, Handy Jesus
Sustained me– even crimes of faith never caused her regret.
Sweet as cough syrup, she ate with the elders at native feasts
Picking the meat out of deer heads– Six hearts, a soul I lost,
I don’t mind it was hell or that God, the almighty, forgets.