Sabotaged Grace: For the Replacements

The regulars were a no show.

So here we are, hairy, ragged,

piss-stained racket-makers,

full of too much Old Milwaukee

& taciturn Minnesota winters.

Invite us into your ears, your heart.

You can’t evict us, we’ll just camp

on the roof outside your sister’s

window, playing unsteady ballads.

Have you looked in on her lately?

Pain nests in her bones, in her

dilated pupils. Hell, maybe it takes

fuck-ups to recognize another fuck-up,

to offer grace that would self-sabotage

if it knew how beautiful it was.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s