Is there something more Sunday
Than American Idol meets Fight Club
In the neighborhood in the borough
And people walking city streets at night?
Perhaps not on the traditional day of rest
The one day you have to nurse your hangovers
Wearing a tie and sitting amongst the sinners
Pretending to know the bible
And see God in the everyday.
And did you stand there with God
Handing you shots across the bar
To beg the ugly woman to drink
In hope that you might could
Trick her into coming home with you?
And maybe God was there.
And maybe the ugly woman
Would have gone home with you
Even if you hadn’t gotten her drunk.
And maybe you would still sleep with her
Even if you weren’t drunk.
And maybe God was the ugly woman
Or the shots of liquor.
Or the buzz in your head.
Or the truth serum
That kept the lies flowing from your lips
Like the way you felt
Sitting there with the bible in your lap
Pretending that there was a God
Differing from place to place
And you just happened to be born
In the one true place
With the one true God
Who drinks shots with ugly women
And tells them that he loves them
When, clearly, he doesn’t.
A free verse poem has no set pattern for line or stanza length. Rhyme is not used, or it is used sparingly. The line length and the rhythm or the lines are dictated by the natural rhythm of speech or other concerns such as emphasis on a particular word, image, or idea.