Pray

On exhausted Tuesday nights
In twenty-minute showers
I wonder if God can hear the water thumping
Against the glass. My deflated mind
Is throbbing with the ticking
Of jumbled thoughts
Against my skull, thoughts
That had been created
By meaningless school-centered hours.
I have a brain
That had been bombarded
Minute after minute by
Algebra nonsense that
Somehow sorted itself out in
My head while someone droned on
And on about grenades and signatures
Dead words and dead thoughts
Washed away by my shower
God, is this what they mean by baptism?

The image of a dead bird
Flashes its way under my scalp
And I am reminded of a
Teacher who had tried to
Teach us how to
Save the world while we
Died temporarily from sheer boredom
If this is your world,
God, then I think I am
Better off not believing in you
Iâ??d rather not know.
Here in my shower
At least things are okay
And warm
And comforting
And I can forget
Everything I've learned

There is no more hot water.