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God, you dissected tomatoes in the moonless tomorrow, a loud night, with deep red air with warm, steaming air somehow in winter * The virgin’s supper eludes her until a spring wind gifts tomatoes and her satiety is vivid, & glorious * God redeems his sperm gives it to Dionysus who mixes it with bulbs and drinks all the way to the southernmost tip of his body * Intoxicated by red liqueur, God makes greenhouses to regulate the temperature of the unborn Christ and in Antarctica saints celebrate, sing hymns * God’s brother is named Joe, after my barber & di Maggio he plays checkers with Adam on another, floodlit world lined with newspapers, reeking of vinegar * In Ethiopia every angel vies for what meat archangels push from jade encrusted tables there is no famine – it could even be a market * What of all this, Robinson? Black, brown the colour of alcoholic drinks, and soils pregnant in momentary stillness, in risk |
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