Of this revelation there is weight,
pounds and inches on an already
robust belly of events,
nerves on tempered edges
that trace the bittersweet arrangements

we serve
with barb-wired grace
and perfunctory gestures,
a god whose manifest
eliminates its charter.

"Let us make man in our image..."
to carve away, whittle away the skin,
the erudition of bone to age,
time-capsuled screams
and fragments of demented wills

that wear the smiles that pass astern,
your crown of buoyant tongues and limbs
drift into a ghost bay of nets

below a waterline of moss eaten debris
these bruised lives and lost embraces
choke on the remnants of carrion and crosses.

Predilection is feeding in your parade
devouring this meager lot of crumbs,
and dines on the thumbs and joints
of this carus lusus naturae
your beloved freaks, your whores,
your word !
Now seated, now served.