Cain
When I asked Where the hell am I?
I meant God, guide me.
When I asked How much is the fare?
I meant My feet are bleeding,
My belly’s empty, it’s cold.
When I said It’s cold I meant
I’m scared shitless.
When I screamed Goddamnit
I meant Grant me rest.
When I cried Where are you?
I meant What kind of father
Casts his son unarmed
And unloved into the desert?
When I said Forget it
I meant Forgive me.
When I said Forgive me I meant
Lord, I want to go home.
When I understood, at last,
I was never going home
I prayed for you to shut my eyes
Against this foreign sand
That I might wander blind.
When you failed to answer
I paid a man to gouge out my eyes
With a spoon. He took the money
And ran. When I found him
Years later—a horse thief
Imprisoned in the heart
Of the city I’d come to rule—
I stayed his execution,
Brought him home, fed him the choice cut,
Bathed him with oil and myrrh,
Dressed him in my finest silk
And called him brother.
I don’t know if he remembered
The circumstances of our first meeting:
We never discussed it.
When it came time for him to leave
I washed his feet, pressed
A bag of coins into his palm
And kissed him on the cheek.
Soon after, I heard he was stabbed
Outside our city walls
And left to bleed to death
In a roadside ditch. His corpse
Was naked, his purse empty.
Lord, when I ask Why
Did you make me?
I mean Have mercy.
Erase what these hands have wrought.