wildscape. literary journal

My god still has teeth
by Kristina Lizardy-Hajbi

At least he did yesterday before he got the wind knocked out of him by the owner of that bodega on 63rd who once took out my grandpa for stealing a pack of cigarettes when he was thirteen. My god can still kick back a few beers & be totally fine to walk home because it’s only a half mile down the road. My god’s not a narc like those Rivera girls who went straight to their parents when I told them for the seventh or eighth time that I am just clumsy & sometimes I run into walls or doors or fists. No, my god stays close to me like hair over skin, never sharing the secrets that don’t belong to him. My god hasn’t taken me out yet, so I go on bleeding & dying every third day just like Jesus did.

about the author // Kristina Lizardy-Hajbi