CV

what has man seen that has not been illusion, deceit, or despair
without much thought as to how one has reached
the bottom of the deeps;
young men with glass eyes
wandering about in a contour-lined landscape
wallowing in delusion and greed
while many younger than i choke on sand
in order to feed their hunger for justice
redemption is not far-
not as far as one preceives the form of the blank
black sky dotted with god's onlookers from the heavens;
it is not as far as the bottom of the bottomless sea
that is riddled and rhymed with so many stories
of dead heroes and lost ships of glory and grandeur
and pitiful things of the same vien-
the blood boils over itself for knives
and blood in return for every drop it is
spilled over, the green gods of man
whispering nothingness into the fool's ear
demanding repayment for a debt to be
repaid in black minds and white thoughts;
for now, we wave our flags
singing the graces of god,
"for god will make all right"
we say,
"i walk in the footsteps of god, and man is the shit he wipes off his feet"
we say,
"our faith is in the white god, and not the green of man"
but many have failed to realize
that the white god has been devoured by the brick-bodied
mechanical beasts that have risen in the failure of god,
angel's halos broken and devoured, so that divinity
is now a relic of the past,
the divine is drowning in golden, god-like piss
of the rarest hue;
now on the life-long search for the soul
that became unraveled from our bodies
like burial cloths from the dead-
the genius has no knowledge so powerful
that he can explain what the soul is,
its power,
its purity,
its shapeless form that can easily slip through the cracks of your being
so that it may run wild and free amongst the others
who have been lost,
yet to be rediscovered along the bedsides of the drunks,
who has regained their lust for life with drink
and self-pity,
who celebrate everyday as their last-
because the day will come when the skies lower,
the ground will rumble beneath our feet and
swallow us whole