Is It Not Surprising That A Friend Writes About Prayers Today? Poem by RIC BASTASA

how can i say that i did not like what he wrote days ago,
about his eroticism somewhere in the hospital
in the room locked by him with his victim
(the willing victim, who does what he tells
as he struts his masculinity around her
as he spreads his legs while, allegedly she bows before him
like he is the god of sex
as she lays before him, naked and all willing to bare it all and have it all
on graveyard shifts,

it was not funny, and he felt so sexy with his stories, which may not be
at all true, it all depends on his capacity for
truth, or imagination, and then today he shifts his gears

praying to the saints, asking God for divine mercy,
and lots of invocations for peace and harmony and what not,

sometimes i ask, does he ever know what a split personality is all about?
what i know is that sometimes we just play with words,
chase our own shadows, and make stories just to fill our boredom

i guess, he is just transformed, from profance to profound, and he must have
felt the sense of home, the self, the temple of something divine

at least, with a sense of dignity.