“church”
God wears my skin and he’s drunk again
I say God is my kin and he’s freeing me from sin
sucking pine seed and sap; tender, the two, but never last
say suckin’ seed from men, pious tears pool in his lap
God fears to live and his glass ceiling is free women
I say God is within and he’s asking for a kiss
hand held on my grip, tears swell in the sky
say fingers soaked in spit, gone is my innocent life
Gone, in the hapless hope of the highways North of Virginia
Gone, east of the records I loved, made in Omaha
Gone, the love from a southern mother before my teens
Gone, long ago with whole-drunk livin’ through sobriety
And if you can imagine a God, you’re more creative than me
but intelligence works in colors, hues of truth, indistinct.
imagine no god, the romance in everything colliding and fighting
to share one frail breath of pestilence, to share one last kiss
I can imagine that
I can imagine a lot of things
no proof to deny
a summer romance of brief existence
where I’m born
I live
and I die
like the god in my gut
and the light in my eye
I can imagine a steeple built for love
no faggets, dykes, transboys
just humans on the cusp
of all things and gorgeous noise
