MUSED Literary Magazine.
Poetry

The Wrong Man for the Job

Michael Neal Morris

so easy to disbelieve
what god could choose
so many losers
so many last kids picked
a people out of an idolater
a nation out of a murder
a kingdom from a scrawny adulterer
a church from an uneducated fisherman
a network from a blowhard zealot
i get it
but i am less than parts
what can be built from this
what can God do
with this deaf and blind weakling
too small for anything but sin

brother i could not understand you
when your voice was clear
you try through lost lips
to speak over the dining hall din
over the television
over the years of silence
and i strain perhaps give up
too easily too easily fall to defaults

i failed you when we were kids
when you should have been protected
from a big brotherīs capricious bad humor
from the blows of a mother who hit with words
from the southern comfort river