You have forgotten God,
but somehow somewhere deep within
                    still you know
you are His prophet.
spraying holy graffiti on the abandoned midnight walls
of the eternal buildings of the city,
up in smoke the dreams of your yesterdays,
crushing emptied beer cans against railroad tracks,
screaming as the whistle blows,
longing to be,
               longing to be…
just not quite so **** infinitesimal,
driven to insanity in the obscene love for now,
     until your mind collapses into castrophic silent reverie.

Now,
                            now,
                                                   now.
i love you,
     I love you,
           i love you,
you are the prophet,
o lovely singular soul of everything,
               you know what must be.

why have your eyes gone dark,
         why are your visions no more,
you long for the starry magnitude of infinity,
and yet can only make it to the door.
you search in the sounds of the night
in the threads of your carpet,
in the creaks in the walls,
in the hum of the air,
       in the sad blue jazz soul of the yellow-light sidewalks
that cry to the sky, “why this eternity,”
therein lies the mystery of everything,
you know it,
but where is it.
    o prophet, o soul,
why have your eyes gone dark?