Subtitle

A CONFLUENCE OF DAYS, WEEKS AND YEARS

by Jonathan Vold

Wednesday, July 13

Coming In From The Cold

A Prayer

He’s living, he’s dying
she’s quiet, she’s crying,
and look at me, I’m none of these
and slowly going crazy.
And he’s working and she’s playing,
and —how would they term my deliberating?
Poor dullboy Jack,
he’s never gonna win.
They’re praying all the time,
and I’m praying right beside them
but it’s what we’re doing in between
that’s gonna save us in the end. See?
He’s living and he’s dying
and she’s quiet and she’s crying,
and I run on like my prayers
hadn’t said a goddamn thing.
So let him live, God, he deserves it,
and let him die, he’s well-prepared.
Let her find her peace in you
and let her cry right in your ear.
But God just let me be
among the living dying sitting crying
God just let me be
no more in limbo,
that’s my prayer...

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