How I Am What I Am Not
Jesus handed me a dollar and I stuffed it.
I was jonesing for something sweet, and I hadn’t had a
menthol since that time Scottie bummed me one of his
We jazzed around the garage, bored, talking about:
the Old and New Testaments,
and Paul Simon.
I bought a pack and smoked one, and felt like I was
I used to buy ice cream from that corner store, but it’s a
bad neighborhood, now, so I threw the pack away.
I felt guilty.
Some poor vagrant, or maybe some high school kid who
needed something to choke on would appreciate a nice
But I can’t be bothered with such thoughts for long.
After all, it’s not my job to get people fixed; also,
the pack didn’t cost me nothing.
So I shimmeyed and strutted on, feet scampering
on down my red carpet road, and God was behind me –
and people are saying now these days that everything is
determined, and I think they are calling it “Determinism",
and basically it says that everything happens for a reason.
There is a causation. I’m not guilty. There must be some
sort of causation.
I won’t crucify myself.
Jesus handed me a dollar – I stuffed it.
About the Author: Frank Christian Burch is an aspiring writer living in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. He has published short fiction in Gravel Magazine, and plans on teaching high school literature after he wraps up that whole college thing.