waiting to lose the messiah

By Andrea Lianne Grabowski

an erasure of lyrics from Semler’s album Preacher’s Kid
​
have you ever had sleepovers with
a repressed ghost?
it’s an ironic honor, slouching
through this land of
stripped sheets, looking for
Bigfoot in Bethlehem,
a savior in Hollywood,
or Athena at Stonewall — 
fucked-up Greek god girl
tearing down police with
bruises on her knuckles.
can I be like that? 
can I have a wife?

I want to sanction all
the cast-outs. all the
ones who cut their hair
and buried every text,
every drink, every blunt.
wrestled the preacher 
and called their best friends
baby. very, very queer characters — 

just like me, turned unholy,
fucked-up and divine.
the pastor said people can change
for Jesus, promised the masses
He’d bless their ballot, be their
engine and their posture. but
what if I was kind to myself?
put on a button-up to stop
hiding? shot a bullet through
the Texas flags and the bank,
prodigal girl with a mouth
full of rot? I know youth group
was brainwashing. I told a girl,

“it was our prophecy, baby, 
we know this pastor wore 
a terrible crown. he didn’t mourn
your mother well, broke your
name. but more than that --
he was hiding a plane full
of poisoned money. he 
prescribed trust, that no one
would find him. a scam.
he may have been on his knees,
but his day is over. a gun, a
grave, then forgiveness 
and fame. will the church
remember?”

and she told me, “we’re worth 
more than a trip to hell.”

I’m hungry for questions. Athena as my
witness, I want to fall for peace.
the kind when the sky isn’t
sin and land back is real. we woke up
and want revenge, or just 
a chance.

---

Andrea Lianne Grabowski is a queer writer, white settler on Anishinaabe land, and recent graduate of Northwestern Michigan College. She has been on the literary staff of NMC Magazine and is editing her first novel. Her poetry is forthcoming in Honeyfire Literary Magazine, Sledgehammer Lit, and superfroot.