Post Box by Thomas Larsen
What Heathens Do on Sundays
men polish their shoes
and straighten their ties
the coffee percolating and
mingling with the aroma
of fresh pastries at
churches across the land
women and girls slink
into their best floral dresses
the pastors and preachers
earmark their bibles for
their weekly sermons
and I’m sitting here
in this converted garage
apartment in my underwear
listening to Frank Zappa
sing about having sex
with household appliances
while my girlfriend
reads the arts & culture
section of the LA times
this is just another
unholy day for us,
drinking wine
from Dixie cups
cussing about the
latest episode
of Charlie Rose
while our neutered
cat licks his
phantom balls clean
and prays for
a new pair
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