Read it and feel it

Nicole Lyons


I hear it spewed

from loud mouths

spit-slicked with hate

that I was born with,

“I’d see him dead before I saw him a faggot.”

I see clenched fists

raised high,

scarred from years

of cuffs

and I will eat your young

(but now “Jesus!”)

After fists come down

to pummel his wife


I taste shame,

as I look upon this table

of cheaters and whores,

no better than me.

But I am the sheep

that wears the dirty cloak.

For it is dark and black

as night.

Made up of all things found

on the wrong side

of the tracks.

The spot where sins twist

and dirty souls are shaped.

Somewhere along that midnight road,

between churches and graves,

you’ll find my stolen spirit,

and you’re welcome to it.

© Nicole Lyons

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