Pure Land

by Ross Vassilev

I prayed to Buddha to fix my heart
and I'll be damned if he didn't
and they say Buddha ain't a God
but I prayed to him anyway and it worked
and when I look at my hands sitting on the table
with the sun falling on them
I think of Buddha
and when I drive through some place at night
and the neon lights are all glowing
I think of Buddha
and when I remember all the crazy things I've done--
smashing windows, petty sex crimes and the rest--
I think of Buddha
so you can worship whoever the fuck you want
but Buddha's always there for me
when I need him.