Dust ye shall return

I wonder why it matters

if we don’t get our buttholes

and bellybuttons back

Does one really need a particle 

of the shell that once was food for the worms?

Will we need barbers, doctors, and cobblers too? 

What if people imagined

a world with only one return

and one promise

transpiring long ago?

Supposedly this tenet is serious

Sheepherders are looking 

for moving targets

It’s not just concerning

It’s very concerning

They will hunt you down

and dismember you 

It will be horrific

Even God won't be able to reassemble you on the last day.

Imagine bodies absorbed 

by tree roots 

and fire

Another chopped 

into pieces 

by car crash or grenade

Others chewed 

and digested 

by bears

sharks

and politicians

Wandering organs

reassembled into earth

Centuries of worms 

Shitting out the flesh of saints

Then the Scriptures 

will finally 

be fulfilled

The last Adam returns 

as promised 

to the adamah

Lord have mercy

 

In this year of one next to another

We all chose together

But before we filled our bellies with lobster and banana tempura

I said ‘done’ in sudden silence and darkness

I was finished before the image of God, too.

I threw it all away below peels not quite good enough

Not even for worms

Again, I should have seen this coming

What the hell

I saw this coming from the beginning

But now it’s done

Done

I quit

I can’t breathe

It’s just foolish

I’ve been here before

Just not with mist and breath

My heart tightens in my chest

I could have hid longer

She deserves better

The three do too

May I sing

Again

Love

In this eleventh year,

On this night we all shared?

4015

Eleven years today

You would have loved her

It’s too bad you only met her mom

I’m not surprised by that though

She only ever seems to care about others

She only ever seems to open arms wide

She only ever seems to lavish God’s praise

To craft another position paper in her mind

Like your ex with his fantasy family

Please tell Jesus I love him

Eleven years today

Anaversery

 

You are

the reason I write

the inspiration I snuggle

the poem of poems

the treasure of this story

words can't describe

Living the Dream

 

A glimmer of hope

A sliver of salvation

A blip of baptisms

Eighty six in one day

Some random dude I don't know

Is excited

Please pray

Your little cult made this possible

Your free labor made this possible

Tomorrow, more will be saved

Eighty six more, all because of you

Some random dad I don't know

Look at you

Living the dream

Ode 4

 

Where are you?

Not, Where were you?

No one really cares about the past

What matters is this time

With the accuser

Held by a seemingly long chain

Perhaps it’s all our fault, though

Imagining ourselves under your curse

Under the reign of death

Hurling through the vacuum 

Of meaninglessness toward infinity

Our fathomless distance from life

If it even cares

All we seem to care about is now

This present, this gift

This already but not yet

Along with paying our mortgage

And our taxes

You became man to warm our innards

To show us what love is

Whatever that means

While we lose our jobs

Lose our sleep

Lose our freedoms of self

Pondering this age of madness

The slave cries out

Where are you?

He doesn’t need hope

That some day you’ll both meet

And you’ll wipe away the tears

He needs you now

He needs to you here now

Not some future day

When the sea gives up its dead

For one hour of the thy faithfulness

Is more than all hours and years

Landescape

 

every now and then

we return to paradise

with eyes wide open

just before dusk

there we both smile

there a little mole is hiding 

in a pumpkin patch

among the perfect apple orchard

subtle tones of sunshine are all around

just the right shade on every side

all is wide open for viewing

its landscape even has one peach

and so we feast and nibble

laying and relaxing

you gaze at the heavens

i leer at the glistening horizon

its supple hills

with lofty pillows billowing beyond

are adorned with soft raspberries

i reach for one with an arm stretched out

you grab my hand to stay grounded

we feel the wind hover over us

chilling the skin

climbing higher and higher

there, at the peak we each find rest

then you ask

would you like to come inside now?

it's your turn

Magic Book Matrix

 

If ten people are laughing

    but you are not

        and you don’t understand why

            they are laughing

                you probably don’t get the joke

                    says the Aussie

                        triggered by the tradesman

                            who points out his lunacy

                                in matrices of fractals

                                    breathed by God

                                    to reveal the covenant key

                                which unlocks the Feast

                            of Booths in Succession

                        for Glorification on Day Seven

                    And so I wonder

                if ten people are laughing

            but the Aussie is not

        and he doesn’t understand why

    we are laughing

Does he get the joke?

Back Peddling

I remember thinking 

it’s about time

enough of being walked all over

finally we have reached an agreement

we have a plan

people are now paying attention

since no one wants confrontation

a letter is decided

in which there is agreement

and room for revision 

that way 

if nothing is commenced

after being promised

and promised

and promised again

with only the action of punting further

we have an appeal to another

who, too, can agree 

that it’s about time

to stop selling ourselves short

Then steps in a carnival 

of sacred heart song and dance

this will ruin everything

this will force into corners

we need more patience

we need to storm heaven wth prayer

we need to not offend

it’s his sandbox

it’s his sandbox

it’s his sandbox

we need to work with him

we need to approach him

we need to be patient

we need to respect his office

we are already on the verge

for many years

in the service of his immaculate heart

then I remembered

this is why 

nothing ever changes

The Goods

 

What a wonderful world we live in

with snuggling noses and arms wrapped around baby burritos

with strangers who donate stem cells to save strangers

with windows rolled down to hand out change to toothless souls in need

with pantries that give and give and give with no strings attached

with dolphins that swim around divers with sharks

with marines who push cars across flooded streets

with husbands and wives who laugh with each other and gaze at each other’s joy

without the back seen to show the facade of innocence

without the back seen to hide the mask covering guilt

without the back seen to thrust into the flesh unwillingly

without the back seen to remain employed

without the back seen to travel or keep your business

without the back seen to be accepted or hated by all

without the back seen to masquerade a sacrament of salvation

What a wonderful world for those who remain alive