“There Is But One God”
There is but one God, one sea, one me,
One in exigencies, and so it is that we may be forgiven,
Forgotten for what some imagine, they who live in
Fear of all things independent, not bound by seas
Of visions circumcised by death, itself; cities, and a panoply
Horror honed with golden trumpets on the silver screen, driven.
Spent., the albatross, the unicorn, innocents that live in
Flights of fear or fancy, real or paginated manuscripts of fantasy.
Those of science, these of fiction hoard by dint of circumstantial
Weakness in the face of simile and metaphor; laurels and the oak leaves
Crown the brow of meretricious habit born of years excused
Yet forsworn by tedious repetition and nothing left to use.
Given, then, both time and choices, now–eternal wherewithal–
They magnify pathetic phatic lives
displayed as prayer rags grown limpid on the breeze.