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Click hereSunday morning
After Saturday night,
I’m up at hint of dawn,
I’m up this early anyway
Six days
A week.
Jesus, give me space
On this radio dial,
Give me space
For just one broken heart.
Faucet water, heal me
Radio, sustain me
Al Pacino breakfast,
Sun Records
For my sins
Last night’s cheese and sausage
Curling on the cardboard
Grants me absolution frying
In my scambled eggs.
This poem was mentioned in the Archival Review thread, in a picking through Lit's archive of over 35,500 poems.
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nicely spun...tight...i love poems that invite you to wonder...why does your sin need to be absolved because of your broken heart...thanks.