I imagine
He runs
The thick black dye through thinning hair
Squeezes some hip band’s t-shirt on
And finds himself inside his phone
In his picture, he's always 20
In a handsome, tragic crowd, now over the hill
Photos of fishing, Sunday dinners
And babies crawl past
He's the only one to keep it real

She says
They arrived
From New Haven early that morning
She'd assured her of what to expect
In clipped, unplaceable tones, so refined, so correct
She waved her hand across the malls and interstates
All so clean and bright and young
But that fresh-painted old sign shouting
"GO TO CHURCH OR THE DEVIL WILL GET YOU,"
Locked up her jaw
And steeled her tongue

I was spinning in the static when I heard God
I was spinning in the static when I heard God
I’m fairly certain I was spinning in the static the first time I heard God
I heard God
I heard God

It could’ve been
The patio fans or the fiberglass fountain
The lowing hum of passing donks
The wash of Southside’s children, night-loud and youth-drunk
I croaked as I reached for his lighter
It forced its way into my mouth
Through pillars of smoke, spilling waters
(“if you want to live, tell the truth.”)
I parted my lips
And it washed out

I was spinning in the static when I heard God
I was spinning in the static when I heard God
I’m fairly certain I was spinning in the static the first time I heard God

I heard God
I heard God

I don’t know
I don’t know
I just don’t know