Sometimes a Saint, Mostly a Sinner Brett Stout Poetry

local_library Sometimes a Saint, Mostly a Sinner

by Brett Stout

Published in Issue No. 204 ~ May, 2014

Zero year

1979

wasteland kamikaze

and the eventual

death from above,

 

now crawl inside
your
cardboard Jesus box
and
watch it fucking

crumble,

under pressure from

David Bowie and acid rain
lint rollers
and
Post-It Notes
gather dust and debris

the derelict hands of

winos and Bigfoot
staple
Miles Davis
on a rented lonely

hotel room wall
fascist cockroaches

infest
decaying suburban neighborhoods

and foreclosed strip malls
just one

in Atlanta
with a dream and a utopian ideal
then thousands
spreading and infiltrating the NSA

and the PTA
just like them
moths under seditious

illuminated lamps
pools of concrete toxins
transmission fluid and Mexican

children at play
the dryer is broken
the landlord is fixed
sink the dull razor

blade
into society
pull up a plush
semi-leather office chair

and
sell me another lie and

used condominiums
Band-Aids and bloody gauze pads
wrap
your veins and high definition

television screens
now relax
and stare at a distance
nothing will be
alright

and nothing will be

ok
just like everyone else
you are all
alone
but
it will all

be over soon

enough,

now crawl inside
your
cardboard Jesus box
and
watch it goddamn crumble.

account_box More About

Brett Stout is a 34-year-old writer and artist. He is a high school dropout and former construction worker turned college graduate and Paramedic. He writes while mainly hung-over on white lined paper in a small cramped apartment in Myrtle Beach, SC. He published his first novel of prose and poetry entitled "Lab Rat Manifesto" in 2007.
  • AzaleasandDaises

    This made me think of TS Eliot’s Wasteland, just placed in the America of abandoned strip malls and economic decay. Thanks for this poem, Mr. Stout!

  • Very dark poem, I like the anxiety created by the gaps in structure. It feels as though the speaker is out of breath but is struggling to speak as quickly as possible.