Original Poem: The Man in Rehab Answers the Priest

Answering the Priest after Six Months Sober
By A.Z. Foreman

I've fallen from an Eden of unconscience.
Forgive me, Father, but I think
You've gotten drunk on something in the chalice,
And I don't drink.

I have already sacrificed for spirits
Let wine pulse in my vains
Seen at the tunnels end a light of blinding
Fevers and pains.

So, Father, shove your Ghost where the Son don't shine.
You have been very kind.
But I did not free my brain of drink for you
To dope my mind.

I'll see my wife who somehow loves me still,
Hear music sweet as shattering chains,
Catch some good weather in a wretching world.
The heart remains

With questions pounding forth beyond the heavens
Through starred space where gods grasp for air and die,
Where supernovas burst with flowers' beauty.
I cannot answer why,

But I can let there be lightness, laugh while seeing
The dark night of the joke you've fallen for,
Making it crystal clear. I will say this
To you, and nothing more:

No greater glory has a human spirit
Than to dream of a real thing, and make it.
Your god should read the writing on the wall
Of heaven: HOMO FECIT.

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