damn it, huck,
when that fancyman coming
we been drifting two thousand days
on these shitty rivers with our souls,
waiting for some place to leave ‘em in
none of them knocks is him

just some big dog screaming
or some vagabond kicking
down trees in a forest
that doesn’t have no life
no grazing deer, huck,
‘cause their own damn god
saved ‘em and left us
to scoop their shit
into the mississipi

i used to think every storm
was him telling us to wait
but the one time i got struck
it was just a little tingle
fancyman lightning would’ve fried
a man twice over
and cooked ‘em at the spot
sounds yummy, ain’t it huck

maybe god is trying, huck,
but then he ain’t no god of mine
my savior has firecrackers for ribs
and timber for a spine
maybe he won’t even come
then what we supposed to do
run and raft to save our backs
and dance the fancy-loo

i aint angry, huck,
life’s easy on this raft
but i sure am surely tired
and could use a beer or two

C. Michael Senko is a sophomore majoring in Linguistics and Communication Studies with a minor in Humanities. He hails from Boston, Massachusetts and has many food allergies. On campus, he is involved in Extreme Measures a Cappella, Sigma Chi fraternity, and research in sociolinguistics.