5: The Locked Tomb (Tamsyn Muir)

God is          the bones, the sinews, the frame

                                                     on which

                                                     the universe

                                                     hangs.

He’s          all flesh resewn, all blood renewed,

                                                     a name

                                                     unsullied

                                                     by…? um, (what?

                                                     blame, I guess?)

God is, okay, maybe God isn’t that filigree

and golden filth. maybe He speaks with a

human voice, and maybe He’s kind of nice?

actually? and like, kinda handsome, but

also kind of just the king of all reality and

ancient, exhaustive bone-tiredness, and

well, He’s more of a dad than an emperor?

God, yes, God is my father

          (oh, Christ, that’s not good.

          who the hell has a good

          relationship with their father?

          who wants to tear through

                       love’s guts

          only for their father to tell them,

          ‘Good job, here’s more guts

          to tear through, sport.’

                        oh but love’s only in your guts

          now, and the entrails he folds into your hands

          are literally just everyone else’s, like,

          hopes and morals and sanity and stuff??)

maybe he’s just trying his best.

oh fuck

god is just some guy

                         ^that

okay, okay, so god is REDACTED,

and if ten thousand years can’t cure

the answerless void of

          Is love worth loving if it’s just

          going to turn into a sword?

or

          Why can’t I be content in a body

          and hold my friends?

then why is time wasted on assholes instead of on the likes of

                                                  us??