When I was ten
I called upon
the blood of Christ
to wash away my sins

I knelt at the altar
and gagged at the
bitter taste on my tongue

Now, the blood of Christ
for Daddy was eighty proof
and went down smooth
with a Seven-up chaser

Daddy would have too much
and the spirits would scream
in his ear that we were sinful
and needed saving

Daddy was a harsh man
with the rod
we weren’t exactly children
after awhile

Nowadays,
I use a Seven-up chaser
myself,
but I spare the rod

I’d curse God for passing
the sins of the father
down to me

If I believed God existed