Elliot Ping
devotional
i run my thumb over the rosary surrounding
my mary mother of god keychain, try
to remember the words to a prayer i never
learned. i should at least try. i praise
the latching of the car door, shove the
key into ignition. fog pushes across
the windshield. it does this every day
when i crank the a/c. i consider my belief
in the resilience of the air compressor
to be holy and my devotion to the hum
of the radio static to be righteousness.
faith flows like gasoline, smells like
exhaust: i believe the air-fuel ratio in
the carburetor means something. i accept
forgiveness in the form of brake lights.
my mary mother of god keychain, try
to remember the words to a prayer i never
learned. i should at least try. i praise
the latching of the car door, shove the
key into ignition. fog pushes across
the windshield. it does this every day
when i crank the a/c. i consider my belief
in the resilience of the air compressor
to be holy and my devotion to the hum
of the radio static to be righteousness.
faith flows like gasoline, smells like
exhaust: i believe the air-fuel ratio in
the carburetor means something. i accept
forgiveness in the form of brake lights.