The old testament gathers pace
Genesis is a right, one of many beginnings,
Exodus is just paying forward lust
Finding a place called the promise land.
You realize that the new testament
Is your body, that finely-tuned sex machine,
That dies many small deaths and resurrects
A few hours later, horny and hungry. The body of Jesus
Is a holy host, nourishing with ease. The wine
Is making merry with supple flesh.
Holy Spirit empowers your tongue
And her counter-tongue and what else, but hymns
To power a church organ, commemorating
When the body dons angel wings.
Heaven is just the pearly gates that you enter
While whispering vespers of sweet nothings.
Silence is just the body’s way of paying penance, atoning.
And you and her, an interface of two distinct
Plumbing systems, becomes the Hail Mary,
One holy flesh, full of grace.
