JEREMIAH BIKES ME HOME

on Monday evening, bleeding between
bricks & concrete, indecisive direction,
improper & traversing. weight
lurching, we force forwards. when a prophet
makes a mistake, I am not equipped
to forgive. even if he asks. sweating, knees
buckling, bobbing. we plead. jolted over
curbs & branches, I recite the Lord’s prayer
for the first time in ten years. somewhere,

a boulder stumbles off a cliff & hits
nothing on the way down. call &
echo as response. no trespass of mine has
been forgiven, Jeremiah shifts no
gears. uphill, wobbling, winded. light
splitting, we meet
the end. amen. shake hands, rinse
wounds. a red light in Asheville. small
rabbit in the beam. baby brother, bouncing baby,
your beautiful brother! yours. black snake
electrical cord. fan whirring down. how to speak.

black around neck. how to speak. winding
down. still brother, yours. look for no
transgression, look & it ends & it vaporizes. bearer
of bad news, mouthpiece of messages
bleeding between cracks. webbing between
fingers. veins inside ankles. call to me &
I will answer & yet I call wanting
silence in return. once I return
home, Jeremiah walks back alone.