God at Sundown by Mark Tulin/the Pedestrian Press –

I enjoyed being featured in this artsy, gritty, and a bit noir. The Pedestrian Press.

God at Sundown

by Mark Tulin

There is no god at sundown,

no savior who’s gonna

fix the holes in my boots

and cook me something to eat

No voice that echos in the soul

on my lonely walks at night

under bridges full of litter

and streets that smell of piss

There is no true god

that bides his time in honesty,

that welcomes a hungry straggler,

heals the body’s burns and bruises,

and champions the weak and lost,

and those who seek comfort

from the blustery winds and fire

There will be no greeting

once I get to heaven,

but more of the same filth and shame,

bubblegum stuck to cement,

broken parking meters, abandoned buildings,

cowboys with busted spirits

and horses laboring from the heat.