we are the body of our God

and the Priest says Look at your hands and I look the vanity crumbles and I see lies—beautiful wholesome lies to the benefit of the masses—and do you not know what Nature intends for sustenance for waste for these hands touch and what they touch they love and what they love they destroy and all the dreams the unfulfilled dreams they too dissipate like an aromatic vapor they too breathe Time the misfortunes the fecundity of rot your reward… the consequence

we are the body of our God

the product of tears the pronouncer of words feet that dance hands that clap feet that run away or stand frozen hands that form fists that hold on to things so easily grasped to seem the dream this dream within a dream and on their wedding day the rest would have to wait with life vests on the drill of escape to a sinking ship yes wedding days which cripple the creed of one flesh today tomorrow divided for should you lie the lie that escapes is truth to the best man the better man the consummated seed to… No but I cant… Yes you can! No! the grace that is sufficient says I cannot do all but one all but No other gods before me… And after? When I lie to protect to save to serve? When I say hell yes I lied! And I’d do it again! What you know I know—this loneliness—forgiveness is the inconsolable loneliness of Man We have educated ourselves to the encroachment of imbecility And Jesus? Jesus was the product of the Romans…

I see the bones beneath the skin. I see the blood that is blue. And Love… love is for sale

yes and so say nothing to no one and if it be truth let it die with you the is becoming was corrupted corruptible to stand beneath windows in lyrical beauty in protest in steadfast resolution this all becomes what it already was never an is to begin with merely a sound byte for our time a memory from a dream you have never dreamt the last gasp for freedom as we say believing it: I Am… but these words my friends we can never say for as soon as they are said another takes your place and you must go to that lonesome valley where hope fails and the dream dies and when the dream dies you die for how can there be an I Am if there is no dream for the dreamer? No it is not the dream that is dreamt and all the plausibility of moral relativism cultural pluralism theological secularism the Great Spirit of our age—all this—in all this the dreamer is replaceable so if I was to say an is that is anything at all I will say: Do not dream that which needs a dream to dream it…