My wants in free verse


I want to mold Jesus
into seven major awards,
and name them after
peanut-crunching filaments
and dim bulbs, too shattered

to switch off the lights. I want to
tell God just what I think about preachers
and the Word. I want to take the boys and girls

too young to know switch-backs and S-curves
through blood sacrifice, rape and incest,

until they understand that the death of every living thing
means every living thing is dead, then teach them Soddom
and Gommorah, and fill their mouths with salt

until they can’t breathe. I want to give them a knife
and a lamb and an apple, and say: Choose the red flesh
you’ll give to God. I want to bathe in the blood of Lilith:

the earth from whence I am sure I came, and to whom I shall return.

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