Saturday, September 23, 2006

Oh Father, your spirit—
The shriek of axels and rolling wheels
Strikes at providence with leopard spots
Camouflage is the sole personae of the world
The scaffolds of prestige digest men like the Cyclops
Do you not feel ashamed by the gaze of eternity?

Oh Father, my lover rivals you
We instruct each other in being
Cleansing ourselves of flesh with flesh
We trespass the earth & hide from your judgment
With the merriment of epicures made divine
Our desire lacks the Sirens of self-made man

Oh Father, thy keeper of my loneliness
It is to you that I submit to bonds sublime & primitive
Everything a shadow, your glory (which never was)
Haunts & directs my witnessing mind
To a linear perseverance, an alien mechanics—
That there is to be continuity in my actions.

Oh Father, have you ever heard of God?
He who made woman without contradiction.
He who tells me a story of myself, a self you’ll never know
That there is more to life than forced latitude
And the trumpet shall be blown
So that all those that are in the heavens and all those that are in the earth shall swoon