A City Finds God

a city finds god
in mazy gutters of avarice:

everything wants everything else;
everything takes everything else;
everything becomes everything else.

everything becomes everything else.

is that not the sermon slithering
as a snake of this rouge rendition
on foreheads of wayfarers?

the stakes are high only because
they tiptoe on storeys of our hopes:

and too much hope—the type that
leaps and pokes the sky’s chin—only
opens the faucet of sudden death.

sudden death, the premonition,
embroidered with the thinness of time,
sewn into the whorls of everything.

this world, this warren, hefty
with the wanting of asphyxia:

bless our lungs with
the loopholes of longing.

here, the premier axiom is
cleaving to the abs of an abysm:

let it seep into the galaxy of your spine,
let it dissolve into the cumulonimbus
of your consciousness, cooked clean
with the spice of this spatiality:

where nothing passes,
where nothing passes everything,
where everything becomes everything.

let it sleep in your body till you no
longer want to sleep—that’s how
to live through the suffering
—to become one with it.

this city, a bed, a biome
of wanting, something to lower
your pericardium into till you
synthesise into shrubs of evanescence.

every day, the metronome strikes
our irises into glaze of gore, and
everyone is wanting blood the
way history thirsts for untruths.

a city finds god
in waterways of inanity

which empty themselves
into streets of endless bodies

brimming with gospels of futility,
brimming with gorges of falsity,
brimming with gallows of fatality:

is the universe not a sullied thing?
is everything not a sullied universe?

lately, I’ve been wanting
to dissect my heart, to see
what God has been castling,
or cancelling, because every time

I plead for him to show me,
he simply says: wait, I’m not
done crafting the city that will
spring from chancel of your marrows.

he says, a holy city
of honey-founts and aureoles.
but my body is a waterway

of transgressions, and this city,
ofttimes, finds me in a gutter
godding fungi and filth:

and because everything becomes
everything else, I become you
and you become me.

What are you looking for?