protean nucleic processes polemic yield
   explosive diversification
   punctuated diversification
   Stephen Jay Gould
   paleontological hypothesis

   spawning sudden flora and fauna
   competed against diametrically
   opposed diatribe
   pairing diehard religionists
   versus doubting Thomists

   which creationist advocates
   threatened non-believers
   with damnation and eternal punishment
   brethren of god thru tongue did wield

   pompous empiricists
   fire and brimstone sermons
   excruciating punishment of soul
   claimants who refute
   intelligent design theorists
   will meet scimitar and invincible shield!

Fading away, like a music.
No jolts, no sadness.
Just a beautiful face.
Religious sacrement is ambiguous.

Failed priests. Another age.
But why would you sacrifice?
Offering instant gratification
to the masses.
Malicious intent is still intent.
Another dimension. Another reality.
Goodbye.

Who do I listen to?

Perhaps you should have stayed
silently, creating something
special with your studies.
Build your wealth,
employ your sciences only with
amazing goals. Ah, my brain.

Must charter the universe.
There is no web, there is no
spider weaving. Only matter.

Matter and history.
Learn from us, your bitter
ancestors, the sweep of evolution.
The great story, you martyr.
You seem reluctant.

The shores, they lick at your
ankles. Salt deposits and foam.
All that is, or ever was.
Contemplations stir.

Leave us alone, without our
sensations of grandness.
I need not your preaching,
your sadness, your dust.

Tiny planetary moulding rock.
Simply dangerous and promising.
Why must I trust another speck
with my entire life? My fate?

It is my own truth, filled with
speculations and masturbations.
Exquisite relationships only
fill me with tainted deepness.

Some part of me knows.
That Ocean is entirely my body.
Starstuff and dust.
My journey begins in my skull.

Tapping my temple, I pull apart
the dandelion puff and bite
the bitter milk.
The blood, plants scream when they
are plucked.

Their juices are not for such as I.
First voyages and scienctists
are better than my own cries.
The depths of embedment are vast.

Birth, live, death, tumultuous.
Jets of energy, my core is
incinerated.
Detroy all in our path.
A splash in my pond, step, step.
A ring, your iris it shines.

Holy local groups, I find.
Containing island chains.
Only 2 million years from home.
Passing over our satellites.

No more writing, no more stars.
Gravity prevails and globes unite.
Centres are millions strong,
like a swarm, a sun, the bee has
stung.
Impossible to stuff the guts.

Spiralling in nothingness.
Arms turn, turn away. Turn from
my face. Curdles outside.
Our home is orange and wide.
Blue in the obscure waters, we
have evolved.

Such intelligence is no indication
that any edge-on view is right.
Please, don't tell me what to believe.

From atop mountains
Of debt
We tumble, like
The thrill of defeat
Dripping down
The quivering chin
Of blood-stained
America.

To quote a thunderstorm:

"All who question
The efficacy
Of God
Shall crumble
To an infinity
Of indecencies."

To quote a God:

"All who fall
Have not
Been pushed,
Those who rose
Were not all
Pulled.

"**** the heathens.
Justified are those
Who avenge the treasons
Committed unto me."

Waves of
Iridescence
Cleanse our pallettes,
And we open wide
For the next forkful
Of fermented
Excrement.
Bloodied are our knees
As we receive
The sacrement,
Trapped like rats
Cast in cement.

To quote a slave:

"Bound by prior
Engagements,
Sacrificed to
Advertisement,
The seeds of men
Wither in the soil.
Blood weeps
From poisoned skies
While YES WE CAN
Opens eyes,
And seals fate
Within fine
Print."

Wolves in
Cheap disguises
Bate their breath
Behind red grins
And finalize
The list of
Who gets in,
While in the cold
Stand the masses,
Marinating
In their own
Molasses.

From atop Parnassus,
A silver-lined horse
Watches the madness,
And snarls and spits
In shamed defiance,
While Apollo
Holds court
To form the alliance
That will interrupt
The defiling of man.

To quote a soldier:

"Cold is the mud
That cradles
The valiant.
Swift is decay
In these
Transient days,
Where passive
Observers rot
In mass graves."

Designed by the rich,
Assembled by slaves,
Our system
Keeps churning,
Rejecting all
Who misbehave.
Reflected in
Concentric waves,
The faces of children
Contemplate age,
And what it means
To be forever
Enraged,
Engaged in endeavors
That are only dreams.
They can't be saved,
And neither can we.
So it seems,
And so it should be.

Par Lui, avec Lui et en Lui,
A toi dieu le Père tout-passant,
Dans l'unité du Saint-Esprit
Bellowing into the wood rafters
The deft centuries survived eclipsed engulfed
Sing through the lasting bloodshed street-air
Par Lui, avec Lui et en Lui,
Tears torrent tear tides cries swathe through city
Window dusk molten flaked
Deep burning smoke covers white stone
Bridges boom liturgies
Par Lui, avec Lui et en Lui,
Où es-tu? Is wept into darkening sky
Où es-tu allée?
His kingdom crumbles away into clouds lost sacrement falling
Strength finally weakened, collapses.
Notre-Dam is burning, tell the children
The bells can not ring tonight.
Par Lui, avec Lui et en Lui,
A toi dieu le Père tout-passant,
Dans l'unité du Saint-Esprit.

Sois de bronze et de marbre et surtout sois de chair

Certes, prise l'orgueil nécessaire plus cher,

Pour ton combat avec les contingences vaines ;

Que les poils de ta barbe ou le sang de tes veines ;

Mais vis, vis pour souffrir, souffre pour expier,

Expie et va-t'en vivre et puis reviens prier,

Prier pour le courage et la persévérance

De vivre dans ce siècle, hélas ! et cette France,

Siècle et France ignorants et tristement railleurs.

(Mais le règne est plus haut et la patrie ailleurs

Et la solution est autre du problème.)

Sois de chair et même aime cette chair, la même

Que celle de Jésus sur terre et dans les cieux,

Et dans le Très Saint-Sacrement si précieux

Qu'il n'est de comparable à sa valeur que celle

De ta chair vénérable en sa moindre parcelle

Et dans le moindre grain de l'Hostie à l'autel ;

Car ce mystère, l'Incarnation, est tel,

Par l'exégèse autour comme par sa nature ;

Qu'il fait égale au Créateur la créature,

Cependant que, par un miracle encor plus grand,

L'Eucharistie, elle, les confond et les rend

Identiques. Or cette chair expiatoire.

Fais-t'en une arme douloureuse de victoire

Sur l'orgueil que Satan peut d'elle t'inspirer

Pour l'orgueil qu'à jamais tu peux considérer

Comme le prix suprême et le but enviable.

Tout le reste n'est rien que malice du diable !

Alors, oui, sois de bronze impassible, revêts

L'armure inaccessible à braver le Mauvais,

Pudeur, Calme, Respect, Silence et Vigilance.

Puis sois de marbre, et pur, sous le heaume qui lance

Par ses trous le regard de tes yeux assurés,

Marche à pas révérents sur les parvis sacrés.

The Pig's Head

O lard the porcine god
floods our souls,
under beer we bend,

rough backed backed  before
the head that is not cold,
surprised eyes not gentle.

The real one has fled the rain,
steps in mud break our secret.

The tide might remember.
The moon fierce and scolding.

2. Salt

Scour the pits of saline gut,
fish open like a lust cut.
Strain the turf.

The near sea of salt twins
will cool our palms with the
coins of lost waves.

Dumb the salt pulse.

3. The Church Under The Sea

Perfect under the glass ebb
but not silent.

The Bell
calls us back to the church

of tide and sway, to the
sacrement of **** and silt.

Deep we seek our service.

Mois de Jésus, mois rouge et or, mois de l'Amour,

Juin, pendant quel le cœur en fleur et Tàme en flamme

Se sont épanouis dans la splendeur du jour

Parmi des chants et des parfums d'épithalame,


Mois du Saint-Sacrement et mois du Sacré-Cœur,

Mois splendide du Sang réel, et de la Chair vraie,

Pendant que l'herbe mûre offre à l'été vainqueur

Un champ clos où le blé triomphe de l'ivraie,


Et pendant quel, nous misérables, nous pécheurs,

Remémorés de la Présence non pareille.

Nous sentons ravigorés en retours vengeurs

Contre Satan, pour des triomphes que surveille


Du ciel là-haut, et sur terre, de l'ostensoir,

L'adoré, l'adorable Amour sanglant et chaste,

Et du sein douloureux où gîte notre espoir

Le Cœur, le Cœur brûlant que le désir dévaste,


Le désir de sauver les nôtres, ô Bonté

Essentielle, de leur gagner la victoire

Éternelle. Et l'encens de l'immuable été

Monte mystiquement en des douceurs de gloire.