(aka.
God)
you
shine like honey
and bed your lust
between
us & the blood
of
a thousand hungry sleep scrolls
where's
your manners?
You
let them fundamentaliss
and comuniss
run
your business for You
when Your children here we are
in our midnight milkmen suits
do your work kaleodoscope-like &
animated by so much love it hurts
give us back our do-nothing prayers
Your twisted sons
or
a knife or a bottle or a club or a gun
just
knowing You are hurtling
somewhere on this dark night
explodes
bad
comedies in my head
around
the bend I see astrophysicists
leaving the convention hall to murder You
with particle accelerators
We
give you political asylum, Lord
and honey to rub on your ontological weariness
and a bell to summon us when You are frightened
We come running innocent blobs of blood & faith
too broken by years & thoughts You never told us
We
live a ruin on busted street corners
shoving
songs
in Your children's mouths
where
laughter seems out of place
and
the intention
of the organism is to scream
but that coup de foudre look on their faces
is
a wolf to our sheep
we shed the fleece & go on eating the grass, nubby skulls
on
hillsides, gypsies on beds of cana
ready to march this mother father land
laid
end to end
quilt
of lovebites crosshatched by scars
we are the freckle hunters parachuted
behind the enemy lines
of the bean counters
we drag our parachutes in front of us
through doors
opening
into
misplaced paradises
the head hangs the
hands
handcuffed to bedposts
where sleep is perfect
and more
terrible than air
