disquietingmuses



"Church Palm"  Copyright 2001 Rain Jordan



Who Speaks for this Man


Single men in the black and white scriptures
never turn a page, too free to understand
the crucifixion of this man at every service
and too nervous to ask what God would ever mean
to this man and me; habitually tending a Sunday
Remembrance for dear loved ones forgotten,
that are scarcely worth more than a blessing each
where love is measured conservatively.

We tend to hold hands with human tradition,
justly kneel, bow and wait for that priest,
knowing today we are abandoned by his sermon,
we drape our naked bodies with pitiful eyes.
Patches on lonely quilts, our sacred rights
doused in silence, incredulous credence,
our treacherous, breathless feet at the back
can no longer wear these souls to communion.

Forced estrangement, they close the Sacraments to us
and say 'run along belittled one and dim that tongue,
home is alone to a Mammy and Daddy breakfast,
your chapter is a tomb without an inscription.'
'The sin that is me' is merely a phallic phase,
immerse this head and join the degradation,
for it is written in these scriptures - our non-existence
where biblical history speaks 'alone' for this man.


Sebastian Levy  copyright 2001


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