In Your Shadow They Grow

In the way, my brain, of an occult sun
extinguishing the dazzling rays of truth
I suffocate behind its mass
emitting its pull, drawing up red whales
from turbulent seas, jaws like alligators
snapping as they fall back into their depths
and I can’t prove they don’t exist
crimson cetaceans, shaking unseen blood in the dark
and I can’t prove, can’t prove
and therefore magic and Jesus
and you’re not like those other Christians
but you provide them comfort and succor
padding out the insanity in numbers
you embolden their craziness
oh, mild and meek one who would never
damage the science classrooms
revert to iron age laws
ban contraception
or lay ownership to the claim
Satan is systematically destroying America

Meanwhile, baboons home invade the pantry
and you, nightly, choose to leave open the window
an invitation to munching madness
leaping through the illogic
chucking turds and pissing up a long fuse
to the top of the Buddha’s head
blown off in a fit of religious pique
you help inspire by the very insipidity
of your beliefs – solace for murderers, rapists,
racists and anti-woman pigs
who snuffle for compost cultivated truffles
in fields you’ve plowed up – ready-made
for their hateful fantasies
by your crude search for
imaginary meaning


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