Monday, March 7, 2011

The Whole On High Hath Part In Our Dancing*

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he smothers his connections in smoke
the fatherless bastard, mothered by
the eye of Iscariot, schooled in swallowing
had convulsions then
saw god
and god was blue
and a painter
agonizing in a dry black desert
subscribed to torture
as if he never existed
yet feels the sensation of rushing air
who put you in this damn position?


messiah with burst ears
jerking apes of delight
love is in the bones
the tossed away castanets,
the polluted wisdom of ataxia
the ecstasy of dictionaries
the frozen loins of oranges
O cry of the new cynic
who gives into the night
with only a glance behind.

*The Gnostic Gospels

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