God’s Name
Speakers throw music through the room. Dancers slam. One corner holds the beer.
Bad beer but it’s free.
People hold their beers like mothers in a flood. Someone laughs, a splash of ugly.
A girl who’s not really a girl asks my name. They call her Scarecrow. She smells of pot.
She has a heavy voice. She wears her skin tight to the bone. Large hands hang from too long arms. Veins run blue in her face.
You want to get high?
She takes me to a bedroom, all laundry and posters. Dim and safe.
She brings the needle.
I don’t know.
It won’t hurt.
The needle pops and all that matters are the flies between me and the ceiling.
I see my name there. The Book of Life like the Baptists say. God knows my name.
I know His too.