Winter 2010

Table of Contents - Vol. VI, No. 4


Poetry    Fiction NonFiction    Reviews   

David Eberhardt


Golgotha— the crucifixion from a thief's perspective

At the moment of his dying he glances to his side...
That figure next to him, something about him...
What is he, gay or something? seems to know me?

The one in the middle. The pain comes in wave/flashes;
Like migraines, like white sand, blinding, Almagordo!
A sand storm would be nice! My vision blurring....

Blood fills my eyes, O death, please come!!
Thank God that soldier slipped me some kef* in the myrrh...
The one below to the side,—I recognize him from the whore house.

Dear God, having never prayed before—forgive my sins, my lies,
What did the guy say—something about "paradise"?
My hearing's going! last chance to see the sun...

And after the first nail, it didn't get any goddamned easier,
That figure in the middle—something about him!?!
Dear Lord I can stand the pain no more!!

We thieves thought we were slick—could beat the rap—
But this is no way to die? my setting sun!!
Blood fills my mouth—thank God for kat* to chew on!

My eyes glaze—what did he say about the "paradise"?
I swear I meant to change my life, at last, as if by magic
It's changed, I know it—was it me to change it?

Or him beside me? all growing very still.
The 3 of us shiver into death upon the hill.
My eyes are going now, my goddamned eyes.
But now I hear it clearly—what he said!
"Today thou shalt be with me in paradise."

* middle eastern narcotics.


© David Eberhardt



Poetry    Fiction NonFiction    Reviews   

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