Confession

Craig Kirchner

It’s been a long time

since the last confession,

haven’t killed anybody,

at least not so you’d know.

No grand theft or shoplifting,

steal ideas every day,

that translate into revenue.

They call that business.

That name in vain thing,

don’t see giving up expletives,

but can for sure cut down

on the ones with a God-hyphen.

Covet everything, lately,

the new neighbor’s car,

his boat in the driveway,

his trophy wife.

Remember the Sabbath day.

I’m here, but it’s Saturday.

Tee time at Kiawah tomorrow.

Last year I did a Sunday.

Tell Him, that burning bush announcement

of nothing before me,

has always seemed very impractical,

and somewhat arrogant.

I can’t remember the rest of the rules,

so, I’m probably not doing great with them.

I’m curious as hell as to how this stacks up,

and wonder should I come more damn often.

Craig Kirchner is retired and living in Jacksonville. Fl., because that’s where his grandchildren are. He loves the aesthetics of writing, has a book of poetry, Roomful of Navels and has been nominated three times for Pushcart. He was recently published in Decadent Review; Chiron Review, Queen’s Review, The Main Street Rag, Hamilton Stone Review, Yellow Mama, Black Petals and about eight dozen others. He houses 500 books in his office and about 400 poems on a laptop. These words help keep him straight.