Geometric Allegory

I n the Forest is the remainder Of the "left behind"orphan child. You must either let straight be straight , or set the infant child up for a rescue. The rescue itself is settled relief. It is possession flanked in the midsection, And now the tent’s wall throws the moon down into fearfulness. Who is watching over the child That inhabits Fearful fear: It is precious and valuable . On Light fires, And mold pours down; the station goes out. Beautiful! Give advice: Appoint, correct, add, let him find suckle. Deposit right! The right hand  A sea-howl... It walks. You brought Forth a boy. Now be able to convict with wine. Do well and stay together. The daytime dove, trumpet provided, knows the throw of thy hand, a hand dry Out of the stream. _________ This broken in-law Is sealed in thought. Keep silent, engraver. Disgrace taunts The Betrothal. Perforate This Net Of Burning wrath. It Flares up: Tremble Wasteland. Dry...

It's all repeated And so are we: The Lord G-d brings us out of Egypt. This isn’t the first time we’ve done this, you know.  Once again, we've paired the wires  And sparked awareness.  We were messing around with the radio Trying to make it work better, But the wires connected in unexpected ways. You and I both hid as best as we could While voices came through electricity Not from a planchet gliding along a board But instead through tubes and wires Like troops from Cape Helles. Their forceful electric glow  Threw echoes into this place and Down into the deep, hungry well.  It consumed shadows And swallowed us whole.  We heard the radio-sounds clang  Along the circular walls.  Skipping centrifugally,  They echoed endlessly into the fabled  Multiverse.  Their sound moved down like on rungs of the ladder, And the effects  Stretched from the ...

I heard the name God  In passing today. It surfaced  singular,  Up from the background  In a steady blur of conversation. "God." When I heard God,  I immediately thought of a magician.   That's what I automatically do: I envision A magician standing on a stage.    Is that strange? No matter the context —    Be it at a wedding,   A funeral,  In church Or on TV... Or even, as I've said,  As a single word overheard in a conversation— When I hear the name God I see God the Great There on the stage.  His suit fits him nicely, And atop H is head, A black velvet stovetop hat Blends into his thick, slicked-back hair. (As is custom, he pulls me from his hat, But not yet... Or not today) He wears a  flowing cape, too; It matches his black shoes, And his mustache, waxed,  Points like a tuning fork. I'm drawn to his dark, dimpled cheeks, A...

In the beginning there was the Word.  It’s hard to explain because the word—           in the beginning— Wasn’t so much a subject and a predicate  As it was a message.  It was a complete idea given to us by the Creator Because He loved us dearly.  Some explain it like this: "Back then, we dwelt in the dirt  And picked the fleas from our skin,  And occasionally our eyes looked up at the sky  Not in wonder, but more because  We sensed a change in the weather.  He spoke to us even then and  Conveyed the message even as  We combed through the hair of the one  Closest to us while searching for fleas  And crushing them between our nails.  The message was very much like a radio signal,  Pressed to our flesh.  For the most part  We didn’t hear it, and if we did,  We didn’t know what it was, so we ignored it.  Eventually—was it decades, centuries, millennia?— One of us finally ...