they ask about my religion...

I sit underneath
a dirty fluorescent light,
that hums with a vibrato
I can feel in my throat,
speechless.

I'd like to tell them
I saw Darwin and Jesus
sitting at the bar
arguing about
what the meaning of life should be
until they got drunk
and went home,
together,
to work on creation.

I'd like to tell them
it doesn't matter
because we will all die
in hope of peace
broken in pieces...
because most wars are fought
over religion.

I'd like to tell them
we'll die
under the heat of the moon
and the pall of the coffin
will be our midnight sky,
that our sins will remain unwashed;
that there's a beauty in
revealing to ourselves and the seas
that we have been unclean.

I'd like to tell them
there's strength
in knowing that you alone
are responsible for your life,
no one to blame
or pray to
and that forgiveness
isn't always granted.

It would be easier to tell them
about my lord and savior

except I don't have one
or want one.

74

All around us
Lights stream
Blazing trails of sovereignty.
Along the darkened forests edge
Women wander
In the wonders of
This Eden

On the seventh day
They'll all spin out-
The beauty will recede
Innocuous and nimble
And we'll each fade into
Our alternate existence...

But for now, there is this...

If I could still this moonlit moment
Between clean sheets of mime and melancholy,
slumbered by creeping shadows,
The night would hold itself
Like untouched inertia;
No breath, but a star-stained sky.