Monday, November 24, 2008
Threaded With Lightning and Hurt
Voodoo VIII: Spiritual Cleansing & Blessing
from Blood Dazzler
There's no deception like the world after rain.
Suddenly God is everywhere,
winking from dumpster rivers,
using the insistent perfume of plain water
to scrape funk from alleyways and men.
In the seconds after storm,
we sign on for brash little resurrections.
We lose those ten pesky pounds,
resolve to enthusiastically fuck dim spouses,
stop reaching across breakfast tables
to slap our children into silence.
We straighten framed blacklight squares
of The Last Supper, musing upon the wide
sad eyes of wept clarity and looming doom.
And we are comforted until the sun
blazes the stench forward, rebirthing rot
and workdays. Then His eyes are dry,
threaded with lightning and hurt,
and we are reminded, again,
just what He's capable of.