Dirt and Air

Dirt and Air

Adam was scrapèd together, our father,
of untrodden mud in an untended garden;
Filled with the wind of the Spirit, anointed
divine over dumb, as befitting a warden.

Scoffers and scorns, in our wisdom exchanged we
that task and that image for mundane devising.
Stripping the flesh from the dust and the life from
the Breath, we uncovered our idol and prizing.

Clay without sculpting, directionless breezes,
all emptied of aught save what reason may hallow;
Wresting our souls from their due veneration
we worship a fart, and bow down to what follows.


< sarcasm >


Attend, ye gods!                                                  
                               How wise, how wise are we!
to read “shall not” and hear, unsaid, “except.”
We have divined such grace as may accept
what elders, weak of conscience, could but flee.

Sit at our feet, ye wise!                                     
                                                        For tyranny
is born of certitude! Ought tales of Hell
not breed a fruitful doubt, or judgment quell
when truth of circumstance shall set you free?

Give praise, ye saints!                                     
                                          Who grasp the mystery
to overcome that last persistent sin
of loving not one's truest self within.
Choose blessings worthy of your jubilee!

In nomine God's liberality,
tolerant Christ, and Spirit's bonhomie.


< /sarcasm >