Became Man

Word became flesh

(biologically sexed)

only begotten—

im-masculine concept.

The Spirituality of the Church

I don’t drink or smoke or chew,

and I don’t go with girls who do—

but wave the flag,

say, “God hates f—s,”

and I’ll gladly go with you.

Medical History

There’s a part of me that dreads

that part of me that spread

the cancer through my lymphocytes—

that part of me is dead

(I think)

And there’s a part of me that fears

that part that hasn’t yet appeared

that sent my parents to the psych ward—

that part is nowhere near

(I hope)

And there’s a part of me that gasps

at the parts that I have passed

like a curse on to my daughter—

that part’s too scared to ask.

I, Even I Only Remain a Prophet of the LORD

The voice of one

crying in the wilderness

gets lonely

crying all alone,

gets tired of waiting

for God to raise up children

unto Abraham

of these stones--

even John the Baptist had disciples.

Even as a Hen Gathereth Her Chickens under Her Wings

I slipped up during the children's sermon

and said he

when referring to God

in the three-person,

when it's only the third-person

about whom we may be certain

was a man--

but only after Word transitioned.

What Has Not Been Assumed Has Not Been Healed

There is neither Jew nor Greek,

neither Black nor Indigenous nor Person of Color--

just White.

Now, I’m no anthro-apologist,

but Jesus sure as hell ain’t white.

For foxes have holes

and WASPS have nests,

but the Son of Man has no place

to lay his head.

Social Distance

If not six feet, then six feet under--

if not you, the jamoke you blustered.

If We're the Body of Christ, One of Us Has to Be the Asshole

Now ye are the body of Christ,
and members in particular--
not just hands and feet,
but those we think less honored
(viz. his cloaca)
yet if we must append,
consider
that his feet and hands
bear imprint of the nails
by which he touches
us through his suffering--
not power.

After Fasting

Thou suicide,
who will not live
by bread,
if Thou art so like to dying,
die--
or live
by every word:
     You will not strike your foot
          against a stone-not-turned-to-bread.

Transfiguration Sunday in the Church Basement, 02/23/2020, While the Sanctuary Is Being Painted

Up the scaffolding and ladders,
stained-glass windows sun-like shining,
walls freshly painted as the light--
if You wish, we have put up three shelters.

But where is the belovéd Son?
Come down the mountain
(down the stairs)
to the basement
with its fluorescent lights
and beige/gray walls.
Lord, it is good for us to be here.

Inasmuch as Ye Have Done it Unto the Least of These My Brethren

Stray dog,
stray man--
shoulder off the right-hand lane.