I had a crazy-lazy day and now I'm having to make up for it all, working my ass off when I should be in bed. You'd think I'd learn, but I never do.

Anyway, here's the first decent thing to come out of my independent writing class:

Testament

thou shalt not worship false idols
even if it's you
in all you're empty, sophistic splendor,
addressing the small town masses as
another victimized Jesus.
show them your palms, your side,
all 39 of the scars crossing your back
in the abstract pattern of punishment.
every calculated cry you make
squeezes their soaked-sponge
heavy hearts
and they hurt for you,
blind to your unconscious cunning.

I will build you no altars.

Many might tell your story
but the real gospel comes from this
wide-eyed archive
of all your rights, but mostly wrongs.
I keep your truth strapped to my thigh
like cool metal
and I'll whip it out from underneath
my Sunday best
when they begin to call you God.

you're first-born Judas is not fooled
and I will not let you go
with a quiet kiss

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