blind drive
-Waiting for Dogot Mix
 
Sometimes in church I’d change the words of hymns. I’d sing my dog’s name, Jobo, instead of Jesus. I liked to imagine that Jesus would understand, that it wouldn’t make him weep. On field trips I liked to imagine Jesus was up front driving and at the same time sitting in the back of the bus with Matt, Mark, James and me, belching, cracking up, singing 99 Bottles of Beer with us.

 

 

 

Daniel Hales

blind drive

prose poetry for the people