Sober angel who are you to talk
When you walk sideways
On your days off
Collect call me from your prison
Collecting money for your sins
All my poisons are digested
and the wells run dry
Call me in a holy hour
To check the price of wine
Holes are in your secrets
They’re leaking on the floor
Press your charges
Make your case
Serve your sentence
Live your days
on hopeful dreams
That never will come true
The Days are dragging sentences
Running on with poor punctuation
Keeping yourself company
Locked up in your cell
Sing for the jangles of
The keys of freedom’s song
Not much longer now
No not that long.
-a.j.m.
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