stork daddy considerations of the world as inert, of matter, of society as a turning wheel were suddenly a black spot
after a night
in a small shelter past some off shoot of a roman road.
no memory of what came before,
and only a dull ache in his body
that told him there were invisible
strings attaching him
to some him that wasn't him
some inhabitation
that he foisted on another
girl that caught his fancy.
coming into the bright day
he said the prayers his mother
said, on a lark.
and found in them some satisfaction.
yes that's it,
they're the same,
the same erasure,
the same everything becoming one thing,
one heightening destruction.
they'll think me noble too
for displacing my ecstasy with theirs.
religion, faith,
it has the same imperious suspended logic of a drunk.
take this cup and drink it.
a drunk in this world and the next.
the same balance between head splitting light and forgetfulness.
the same feeling of having it all perfectly balanced,
before judgment.
Doar . 080505
Doar I have to say that was eye candy stork man. 080517
past but, in finding himself
lost and weary
along that off shoot of a roman road
he opened a book
at the beckoning call of
childs' play from the yard nextdoor
and read aloud
from the letters of paul.
his world shifted,
as he so long prayed
and dreamed
and lusted for;
as his mother so long prayed
and dreamed
and lusted for;
and he was thrown into
the throws of conversion
to embrace the errant ways
of the protocatholic faith
leaving behind
the errant ways
of the mannichean faith.

there's a loss in his story
a deep and bitter loss,
the loss of an old man,
losing his life
in an instant
but finding himself truly
in that same moment.

but who is his god,
and how does that god
fair against his conception of good
and his conception of evil
as the absent darkness
that doing for no-thing
and for nothing.

the blinding lights of hindsight
left augustine changed;
another saul
turning into paul.
stork daddy thanks doar. he's my patron saint these days. 080519
what's it to you?
who go