the bills still come.
the cancer still grows.
the sink fills with dishes
and somebody downstairs
won’t stop fucking at 2 a.m.
meanwhile
the moon hangs there
like it knows something.
I quit trying to transcend it.
quit trying to become
some glowing wise man
floating above the wreckage.
this is it.
the bad back.
the cheap coffee.
the blood test.
the woman leaving.
the dog barking at nothing.
I light a cigarette
I probably shouldn’t smoke
and watch the morning arrive anyway.
that’s all holiness ever was.