i have empty pockets

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Hold me in your sacred heart.
Wash me with your saintly hands.
I’m filthy in body and in mind
from journeys through sewers of promise.
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Nothing was gained in these travels.
I don’t have the price for the purchase
of the key to the infinite
where I’ve heard all can rest easy.
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I have empty pockets.
It’s the easiest way to make the trek.
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No time is wasted on mending
open spaces where pennies could drop.
There’s no need for coinage,
it slows down motion.
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I have empty pockets.
It’s the quickest way to make it from here
to Avenue B.
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I have no hotel room, shack or motel along the way.
I can’t pay the desk clerk.
There’s nothing to hawk.
I can’t even remember the pawnbrokers name.
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Hold me in your sacred heart.
Wash me in your saintly hands.
Give me a moment respite,
that’s all that I ask.
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Keep your key.
It’s not something that I need.
I don’t like crowded rooms.
I have empty pockets.