Any Small Token Poem by Uriah Hamilton

All the broken boulevard angels
receive God's kind midnight sacrament
of party store generic wine.

This will make do
for sad prayers on dark avenues
and lives that seem like shattered dreams.

Give me information please
on whatever happened to Kathy and Colleen,
I'm interested in if their souls survived
so many players and calculated lies.

I was depressed at the bus stop and police station,
I was silent at the abandoned church where the bums sleep,
I can't recall if I gave you anything at all worthy of your heart to keep.