meditating on stilts

[transientbandit]

carlos flew by me.
a revolutionary machine.
i knew him by his tail and scent.
all these scholars.
with synthetic aromas.
offend my sixth sensibility.
except the rabbi.
the holy man.
hanging in the halls.
an expectant gift
for an expecting child.
she smells like believing in stars
and hallucinations.
as christ must have.
They talk of social engineering.
i want to tell Them
i have unlearned gravity.
and from up here
its easy to see the choice.
once you stop believing
you see more.you feel less.
god too.
jesus is nothing without me.
the power of god
is the faith of the people.
idols and masters
are vessels of restraint.
titclamps keeping us servile
social engineering.
i stopped believing in gods
my horns are coming back nicely.
shes growing a beard
i come to the smell of holy men.
his tail is teaching him to walk upright
i talk with god everyday
that damned rabbi's gift wafts
between the underside of my skin
and the sunnyside of my bones
she makes mutiny of my circulatory system.
a holy man, a goddess, and a prince
sail a sea of frankincense
from my toes towards my lungs.
following a light somewhere above my head.
they claim a christ child waits somewhere
in my stabled heart.