Omnipresent Pork-Pie Boogaloo Blues



It’s all real, it’s all right here,
cut yourself, bleed — see
Reality’s flesh kingdom, blood-hot
mile of twisted intestines, winding
road to the City of God.

Born of God, cancerous God, corpse God,
vine God wraps, and pulling,
feeds flesh God to earth God,
God rotting into God, marking pathways
to new God birth.

Grass God, snail God, child God, rising
pumpkin God bursts against the ground,
seeds of God, scattered
life God trails, destined
for tire-tread doom or hero’s journey

to bird God transformation,
shit-lump God, life-bomb plummets
to hungry soil, womb God
lying fallow and anxious
for a miracle it could not have expected.

This is my body, this is my blood,
this is my sacred heart exposed,
pierced by wood, wrapped in chains — see
my hands, bleeding
iron spirit nails

have crushed the bones of my feet,
bone Spirit laughs, weeps:
Wake up! Rejoice!
fleshy Spirit life.

I will rot and be born
again in this world, God world,
blood of Christ, creeping
through soil God, still beneath
your bone Spirit feet.

Walk on God, God walking,
rising onto your tongue, pungent bile
reminds you you’re alive, memory God
resurrects forgotten avenues,
dust roads, thick

with the blood of children and soldiers,
fallen Gods, wallowing
in an endless generation of saviors.

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