Scott Bailey

Giving Beauty Back to God

I’m uncertain how to style my hair—
the perfect part, the slick-back look, the bowl cut—

when I find my hamsters
in the hot cab of my dad’s Chevrolet S-10:

the windows rolled up.
doors slammed shut.
tongues stuck out.
stench stout as chives.

I ask mom why she killed them:
For putting pets before God
for too long.

I don’t ask for forgiveness.
I wipe my petroleum-jelly hands on the Book of Revelation.

I’m Not Surprised We Were Created in Explosion, Speed, and Void—
All This From a Loving and Merciful God

To Work

Down three flights of stairs, dodge dog shit for six blocks, curled up with a scarf,
down two flights of stairs, wait for the L, squeeze in, rub a few butts, hope my
butt’s rubbed, make six stops, up four flights of stairs, walk 8 blocks, up one flight
of stairs, catch the elevator to the third floor.

To Home

Catch the elevator to the first floor, down one flight of stairs, walk 8 blocks, down
four flights of stairs, wait for the L, squeeze in, rub a few butts, hope my
butt’s rubbed, make six stops, up two flights of stairs, curled up with a scarf,
dodge dog shit for six blocks, up three flights of stairs.

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