I have reached the end
I am at last triumphant

I am pedigree of pious desire and knowledge eternally sacred
I have welcomed the pilgrims
I have guided their yearning will
To the celestial comforts of feathers’ yellows and sanctity’s whites
Whites white as my waving robe and now my thin white gown
In which I await my appointed time

My tongue is wriggling
Circling across my gums
In sensuous reveling of my life’s most blessed and greatest times
For I have laid eyes upon the glory of life’s highest gifts
For I have laid hands upon the most succulent succubus fertile hips
And I have supped of *****’s glisten
I swam in Bacchus’s wines
I have recited doctrines of worship
I worshipped saliva’s shine
And I have observed communion
I drank it with ***** dust
I have read the hatha yoga
**** as the first man forged
And I have anointed blossoming ******* beneath the holy sigil

Sputtering laughter
Only trottel bows in truth and believes I dispense
A cleansing and redeeming eternal salvation
Have you no eyes to see my body’s common human shape?
Do you think I’m fat from God’s great love?
I cackle in the presence of such unwieldy weakness

Although my bones are sagging
More sagging is my wrinkled brain!
My memories are mating and birthing strange chimerical forms
They’re flooding and blending
Into vivid dreamlike collage
I see the faces of children I’ve taught
Atop necks of ****** I’ve known

The cheap locations of ****** have grafted with the echoing halls of cathedrals
Bizarre lights of nightclub glow are dancing upon spiritual texts
I hear an angelic litany
Sung through a stripper’s lips
I feel sheep’s wool
In the tousled hair of my boyish youth
I taste sweat in the bread of religion’s stoic privation

My air is growing more ragged
With every pitiful inhale I take
I feel light although I still see my heavy gluttonous flesh
My spirit is peeling away  
Beyond my body’s earth
Arising high above from mortality’s curse

I am ascending into the holy realm
A realm with gates inviting
Like opened lotioned legs

I can see my own corpse
Surrounded by genuine reverence
They don’t even notice the shot glass
Still clutched in my pasty fist

She waits-
At the gait
To see a glimpse
Of the man she love
The man who loved her
So dearly
So tenderly
So honestly
So passionately….

She waits-
At the gait
To see a glimpse
Of that turbulent past
In his deep brown eyes
A trace of remembrance
A trace of nostalgia
A trace of yearning
A trace of regret

She waits-
At the gait
To see a glimpse
Of the man she love
The man she can’t hate
Remembering the life they had
Love they shared
Embrace they cherished
Secrets they whispered

She waits-
At the gait
To see a glimpse
Of that past,
The past she wants to let go of
As he paces
Lost in serenity
Towards his goal
Passing her
With a serene smile
In a saffron robe

She waits-
At the gait
Drenched in nostalgia
As wistful tears sparkled
Living in that moment
Where he is
So close
Yet so far…..
Trying to overcome
The distance
The yesteryears
The  reminiscence
As his words of wisdom
Echoes…..

And she tries
But she fails
To hate him
“ Love is…. After all,
Merely a fleeting thought
That we choose desperately
To cling on to…
Without letting go.
Another thought,
Evanescent..”