God stares at the lamb nailed to our door like an art exhibit.

Stroking his chin. Nodding. Moving to the next.



Let me gag on dirt you dug up from an old grave,

eyes full of re-purposed blood

and smiling like a thief hearing sirens drive off in the wrong direction

Let me fall like the statue of an overthrown dictator,

the people innately understanding that they are witnessing

the dawn of a new holiday

as my row of crooked teeth gets straightened by the concrete



I am writhing on the ground

and a crowd is gathering

and I tell them that everything is fine

and they don’t believe me

but they don’t do anything to stop me either



I want to chain every bit of decay in me

to a television tuned to static

and stand up from my foxhole.

I want a dead raven nailed through my heart.

I want the world to wipe the sweat from its brow

and put me back where I belong.



Just get on with it.

Stop putting it off.

Finally and forever buried under all the dust I’ve been gathering.