This charcoal paint
He draws himself an anti-saint
The cross on his face makes way for worthless thoughts and glares
He takes his pain and less mundane
Makes art.
Sacrifice the bowels of animals and coat this ground with dirt and blood of goat
Say the worst of me
I am the worst of me.
Dagger, no- knife of surgeon, scalpel doctor
Lector no cannibal, Hannibal I cut,
And slice and stab and FEEL
I FEEL
GOD I FEEL you!
I feel your cells tearing, schism of church my blade makes works of Raphael and Michelangelo
The Adam finger of my hardened steel makes contact with your God,
GOD
I
FEEL
YOU.
Creation of Man, creation of this man on this earth,
I give my ribs to you,
I cut them from my chest.
And make one *** into two ***,
I make our ***.
Your ribs make my ***-
X! Out my eyes, I am dead,
Slain by thoughts and feel
Slain by day come next after you and I make
TEXT unreal, unnecessary, unneeded
I need not capture my lance of piercing Christ
Destiny not speaking to me in words,
My blood speaking words which turn thoughts of water
Into wine,
You are my Christ
And like Romans, I will pierce you with my spear
Pierce and tear my surgery and tactful share of shaft
Into your ribs as John (19:34) had claimed.
Claim you and shame you for being the true daughter of God.
My savior on cross,
Veronica's veil, placing your Jesus on my face
I will memorize the runes in this literature
With the nerves in my skin,
My charcoal skin.
Paint the flesh on my blood lips with your wine,
So sweet and finely fermented water
I will alter your purity into eternity,
I will copy down the bible.
I will be your Peter and John.
And hope not I am our Judas
Pray only good fortune to us
And we may slash and tear these days away.
Slash and tear and share our ribs and cross,
Indulge in your fruit of knowledge and Eden.
God is dead but we don’t need him,
We have you.
Adam made one *** two.