When our nest is empty
we will still be
shoulder to shoulder
not just face to face
as mere friends
playing games
and killing time
Instead we will be
building together
growing together
producing together
feasting together
waiting together
for that great city of the sun
Across my world is a hellish place
I am not welcome
It’s a hospital
And only a hospital
With an autistic chaplain
A frog that croaks to inmates
And a canine with longer fur than Jesus
It’s full of sickly patients
And no physician to be found
That is why we travel
Across the plane
To the magic city
Where I am allowed to cry
And many others cry with me
When their streets flood
And candles go out
And doors close for the night
It’s because the gifts inside
Receive our prayers
Hear our cries
And cry along with us
What is that?
One’s excuse to retreat from the face of evil?
To become something magical and mythical?
To mimic the fictional deity we imagine to be?
To love all equally yet hate some of them more?
Which is it?
Some say it is the gift of Jesus, the son of god who is killed and made alive
Yet among the truly liberal it is spoken of as the charity of one
who kills and makes alive
but who also makes alive and then kills
Blessed are all those who put their trust in him
Over the valley and through the woods
A half day was spent seated, motionless
Then we arrived
And a curious young man
Locked the only door
From the inside out
To the only room
To pay our water bill
To dump out our trash
After the handle was removed
From the outside
One might think
Disparagement would be unnecessary
But that door doesn’t swing both ways
If you plant corn
Don’t expect strawberries to grow
Humiliation is what precedes exaltation
Stupid decisions just delay that process
The spirits howl this morning
ready for worship — ready for war
I can hear them wanting to break glass
wanting to push through and invade
But these walls
built upon the foundation of martyrs
mortared with the hymns of holy ones
won’t let them
Its breath continues to hover and push back
Its black emblazoned stones cry out
Have mercy on us
and on the whole world
Why so rude?
Because a pinnacle has been reached
It doesn’t matter what others think
Others don’t care
So others shouldn’t feel obligated either
Oh, but they do care
So I’m told
Oh, I get it
They are now
Now that honesty has entered the sanctuary
And clarity the conversation
Direct, principled, and prepared with zero bullshit
With a side of loyalty to those hate horseshit, too
The end
Convoys arrive and restrictions quickly depart
Liberties and ringleaders are quickly arrested
Ministers seize powers and opposition is quickly silenced
Gifts and earnings are devoured after the first freeze
Then comes the media hush
Then comes the partisan retreat
Then powers suddenly go back to normal
Who still remembers how this game is played?
Those who lose will be left behind
To fend for themselves or starve
Then comes the ultimate junk food
Hot fries with cheese curds and gravy to the rescue
Of those behind the silence and starvation
Behind the powers masking the science
When poutine invades every living room
Everyone will draw six feet closer
So that biosecurity basics can sneak in
Making everyone watching happy
Then the muskrat will enter into the great narrative
Its omnivorous diet will devour world markets
And prevent harm caused by poutine
But the muskrat must be summoned first
And he only responds to one call
The delectable chirp of a desperate bird
In need of salvation from God
Only this rodent can link stars above
And save what is left of our souls
Elongating and damning us all
The next meal to be served
Is planned at a table
With nice, cushy seats that recline
Entrées and hors d’oeuvres
Are played out in pieces
On this grand chessboard
They all designed