The inherent eroticism of religion,
How red the little g gods bleed
By the soda fountain
And all the women who devote themselves to their gods (plural)
Gods like those that ruled over Greece
The flawed ones
The ones that made monsters
and humans both
Is that the neck of a coke bottle or
A glass skinned girl
Between those teeth straightened by mettle?
I’m telling you, if you’ve ever met a priestess
The real kind, the wild kind
You’ll know well enough what it’s like to be eaten alive
And I’m not talking about by the mosquitos in the swamps of Georgia
I’m talking about
How the glass breaks
How it shatters
How it cuts the mouth of that little g god bloody
By the soda fountain
And he’s left wanting for more
The taste of blood is acquired like this; early
There’s no such thing as a benevolent divine