Naked Poetry

How do you spell God?     One summer I tried. Sat on a three foot tree stump Grabbed a hammer and nailed my femurs down. Quickly forgot my fitzpatrick skin type. Got Lost in the red rivers of my sins. What sins? I’m not a problem... I am problematic. No. I am a problem. No. None of these will do. Help me winnow this down, shall you? Maybe. Okay, here it will be:   “It’s simple; I’m complicated.”, I say. In walks my good friend Cal, “We all have complications, Addie,” “But Calvin, you’re so Klein! Your name is wrapped around angels!” “Relax,” he says, “They’re just bones.” He looks down at my femurs. I don’t say sorry. I do not shrug. I just ask him if he can solve me. To which he responds, “Yes, easy. Become the number zero.” --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/nakedpoetry/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/nakedpoetry/support