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Click hereOur assymetry saturates my stiff, fixed stare
in a liminal cipher of ingredients
the aching slug of flesh, acacia spindle angled
in the haste sport of hounding after softness' scent
I was told stories of a land of milk and honey
and the chapel laid with papaya, honeysuckle
and each readied piece molded of moments to fit
conjured of charms, prayer and predation
and slicked in blessings spent on breaths in consecration
Spurred but snared, promises of glory leaking
from the heart of mercy
Our Lady of Genetic Opportunity
leaving us arrangements of fire and stone
and the sermons of the garden and the tower
to sort out on our own