Bible dust

In grooved halls and chambers gleaming

We presided over the dust of times

Individual slices, a zephyr of energy, split by nose

Bushy beard and cob-webbed hair, yet kingly, royal crown of light

Bent down to feel the weight of children

The burden of knowing nothing is impossible

Our lord took his first line, stood in line, snapped

Clapped Lucifer, brothers as always, brothers of the chain

My man, exclamation, my man my nose-hairs

My burning, singed, mounds of dried

Petrified wood, mind, a steel-trap

Don’t mind the lord he’ll go around our ignorance

They say if Jesus came back today he’d throw up

If the lord returned, a change of robes would be in due

Collect-calls to organizations, let’s get some agendas straight

Nostrils caked with the juice of lovers, the juice of speed

21st century ambrosia, the finest of the fine

Ground between the breasts of thirty-three Colombian virgins

And poured directly into the nose of the lord himself

Angel’s dust

Membranes pulsate, undulate, languid lemurs leaping

Profess the lord profess

Oh lord, the king of foreign cabins, good-will servant

The bread of all the Earth weighs not the poundage of your speech

All the words, the possibility

Aeons of memory and infinite knowledge, the labor and reward

Served only to a God

Capable of saying anything

And he asked for seconds

Even the lord can appreciate cocaine