when Christ blew out the candle
darkness hit the road
three days down on my knees
fumbling for matches from Joe’s
Madge was waiting tables
pencil through her hair
I didn’t order a single plate
and still the books were free
sat outside on the curb
beneath the neon sign
lit a match from Madge’s book
just to watch it burn
a Dodge with windows down
leaked music to the night
heard its message loud and clear
but didn’t understand
there must be deeper thoughts
than mumble in my head
staring at the ceiling fan
from my motel bed