by Daniel Romo
Pastor Ruben said anything mentioned
at our church men’s group
is confidential
and I admitted to those at my table
that I don’t really like
people and prefer to be alone,
but I view this revelation as more
broken fourth wall
than promise.
We bond over breakfast and the
books of Colossians and Collisions,
eating bacon and eggs while
bouncing our sins off one another like
a biblical demolition derby
with the names of our competing trespasses
spray-painted
on the side of our cars.
Anger came in second
and Lust took first,
and airbags are void when a man
allows himself to be vulnerable to
absorb and acknowledge
the casualties within
the crash.
When the older gentleman
at the table next to me replied,
Hanging in there,
the other older gentlemen at the table said,
That’s all we get to do is hang on,
I could tell each had driven
their share of winners
and this conversation was their
expert commentary.
I tell my table, It was a struggle just coming here,
and though the eggs were kinda runny
and the bacon somewhat burnt,
if we’re lucky
our own forms of manna
rain down upon us,
a replenishing or cleansing that nourishes
even the most broken souls
having collided head-on with
Envy, Greed,
Pride.
Daniel Romo is the author of American Manscape (Moon Tide Press 2026), Bum Knees and Grieving Sunsets (FlowerSong Press 2023), Moonlighting as an Avalanche (Tebot Bach 2021), and other books. His work can be found in The Los Angeles Review, MAYDAY, Yemassee, and elsewhere. He received an MFA from Queens University of Charlotte, and he lives, writes, and rides his bikes in Long Beach, CA. More at danieljromo.com.
January House Literary Journal 
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