It was all in good fun. He said he was the son of God.He wasn't. No one cares anyway.
Two young kids drove a screwdriverinto the ignition of a car to stealthe thing.
I need old friends and alcohol,huddled over a restaurant tablewith warm lights, with shadows,with secrets.
Slain in the spirit of his drug, he reachesfor the invisible, babbling word-like soundsfrom his spirit to the uncomfortable peopleall watching.