She would damn these Christians
Just like Nero did
Send them to the pit
Post office closed, now her package is hostage
Myrtle Ave’s a graying din, rain is threatening
But this one girl’s out flyering
She stops her with a fist, extends an offering
In Comic Sans is writ:
Our church invites you in

She snatches the flyer, shudders, and thinks of home
The drop ceilinged chapel, Mom’s chemo, snowbound roads
Studied theater and history for an incomplete degree
Worried about practicality, but she loved those stories
Then she moved to NYC to try to act
Bed-Stuy to be precise, when swine glide she’ll go back
But it’s like giving up a kidney by the way they tax these cigarettes
Cash ain’t exactly raining from the track-marked firmament

She grabs a pack by her place
Finds her roommate
Buying Fluff and mumbling

All I want is nothing short of more
Is something more than the norm
All I got were some soles more worn
Than they were before
And I feel it feel it feel it feel it
But I like the way they sound on the pavement

At the church the girl stuffs the flyers in her bag
Enough with all these white girls shuffling by, looking sad
But the congregation’s changing
And it always welcomes new friends or
So Mom had explained while slumped against the headboard
She smooths her blouse, sighs, and checks her texts
Her best friend keeps asking about the bio test
But after Mom’s surgery, will there even be time for school
How to find relief in “I know the plans I have for you”

Up above screams the J
Commuters sway
Thinking

And what I want
Is nothing short of more
Than it all