See, kids? God does answer prayer!
(a fairy tale of sorts) rated R, must be 17,
or accompanied by an adult to read
"did this poem make it to twitter, perchance?" ~ stolen words
@aladreth ©2015
she has moved
from "that's just her,"
and "she means well,"
to, "stop that shit right now!"
i must forgive her,
pretend she is a wise virgin,
her oil lamp filled
waiting for the master,
a sweet slate ready for writing
she's a world class hustler,
maybe i envy that trait in her,
maybe that is why her outbursts
anger me so
but, i must forgive her,
pretend she is doing her best,
the best she can
her father was a magician,
believed he could move things
with his mind.
he went as far as to thinking
he could stop inevitable events
so, one day he poured gasoline
in the house, struck a match,
sat and 'willed'
the flames to stop
somehow, she saved her siblings.
her dad went to a mental hospital
(five times)
from him, she learned
the easiest way to get out
of going to jail was to pretend god
talked to you,
so she visited mental hospitals herself,
always thought it was a blessing
in disguise -
hospitals were nicer than jail
later on, i don't know how,
she had kids of her own,
took in their friends too
she met steve jobs several times,
he gave her huge tips at applebee's...
he liked her jokes and her ideas
(i'm not going to tell you
he used any of them)
she barely survived being a waitress
because she was more of a clown
than a server
one day it happened, (again)
money was gone
and everyone needed underwear.
to take their minds off their troubles,
she played silly games like her dad had played,
without the gasoline, of course...
pretended for the kids she was moving things
with her mind,
pretended she caused the rain to come
by playing drums and chanting
pretended she could talk to aliens and ghosts
"let's pray to god for our underwear," she said.
they gathered in a circle and held hands,
they swayed, started a slow dance,
around and around and around.
"dear, god, help my kids to believe in you.
we need underwear."
"dear, god, help my kids to believe in you.
we need underwear."
"dear, god, help my kids to believe in you.
we need underwear."
let's just believe,
all of us now,
together,
god answers prayers
she got on her bicycle and flew down the street,
there was a vietnamese woman closing down shoppe,
throwing out a big black garbage bag of stuff...
"what is that you are doing?" she asked,
and the small lady answered,
"throwing out these panties from the store i'm shutting."
"oh!" and joy filled her heart and mind,
"please, may i buy them at a discounted price?"
thinking she'd show her kids there was a god.
but, the lady said, "no, i can't sell them, but here,
take them for free."
praise god, there is a god
off, she went balancing a huge black bag
of panties
on her bike
(this may sound like a fairy tale.
i'm sure there are secret parts
we never tell to others,
but be sure to ask your boyfriend
how his last relationship really ended.
i promise you, it's very important.)
back home again,
she ripped the bag open with glee,
underwear falling everywhere, shouting,
"see, kids, god does answer prayer!"
