Rounds

Downstreet from OM we opened
A bar called AMEN, where the noise
complaints came from above,
where our choir howl swept
up the dust. Ask the Jehovists:
they're slow to trust the dark, corroding
our confidence in warm blankets
and flashlights -- our faith
in the warm beer of blackouts,
and they LIGHT candles to make wishes
and we DARKEN OUR DOORS
with mezuzahs, our floors with mandalas,
but "catch you on the flipside"
never meant anything to me.
Waking from nights out, dawn
long gone seems so religious.
Our pains are answers to our prayers.