Glucose
swinging
o[pen]
closed
stuck
unhinged
in some haphazard
fashion like the
smile
hanging
from her
dis[illusion]ed
lips the night
she walked away - that
night
I said "p[each]es"
when I should have said "apple"
from a dead
tree
in some concrete grove
filtering the lives ofbarren women
and fetid men;
men like [badge]rs
chucking and fucking and
pret[end]ing to love
her
dis[illusion]ed lips
holdingup the haphazardly hinged smile like
some rotten fruit oft [romantic]ized by
grizzled faces
at
l a n g u
i d paces
in some coffee shop on
the edge of town:
"apple"
she
s[cream]s
and on my own tongue I
still
taste
p[each].
Organized hate is no more divine.
A church of peace can not
crusade.
The
politic of religion is oxymoronic.
A god that
divides will never reign.
These are undeniable truths denied
every day by crass
individuals speaking for masses
that have
voice,
that have mind, that have faith,
though you’d never know it through
the thick and
bloody fog of murder excused
as war.
I am not the one
that bombed your hospitalwith the red cross as target,
I am not the
one
that reduced your house of blocks square to rubble ragged,
I am not the one
that stole your husbands and sons from
your homes in the lie of night.
I am not
responsible for these things, yet
I am
represented by those who are.
(this is where you pause to
think)
Fair is a four letter word
(like
race),
that means
nothing yet is fought over by
hordes.
One man hates
another
for his love
of a third yet claims an all-loving god.
One child strikes another
for his shoes made by a third
an ocean away.
Whosoever protects the weak -
shall be treated as weak.
Whosoever defends the different -
shall be
treated as different.
Whosoever cries out against ruthlessness
-
shall be
treated ruthlessly.
So sayeth the Shepherd -
so sayeth the
sheep!
These are undeniable truths upheld
every day by sanctified individuals
speaking at masses
with voice,
with mind, with faith,
such that you’ll never know the truth
through
the thick and ruddy fog of rape disguised
as disease.
These passageways were
meant for boys to become men,
not the
reverse,
not the
perverse, not the verse:
chapter:
book
of words
changed by the ru ling
party countless times
over thousands of years.
Would that
god(!) should leave a mark,
a footstep not filled by those
crushed
by the weight
of his church
for believing
in some other god,
but the same
god, yet a different god –
not my god.
A building and two sticks don’t make
one pious,
a prayer and two songs
won’t grant
one
salvation,
a tear and two hands
won’t bring
one forgiveness.
But a gun and
two bullets…
(one for
youand
one for me),
what a wonderful world
it would be.
Amen
J.R. Carson has multiple prose pieces in
publications such as Anathematic, Skive Magazine, and
Defenestration. An award-winning playwright, his poetry placed at the 2006
Sandhills Writers Conference and garnered him an invitation to Bread Loaf in
2007. In most of his work, he tries to tell at least three different stories
from at least five different points of view, or whatever the cosmos may give
him.
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