first gleaning/last light

there's a procession of doves in your rafters

-an army of pecks

-a liturgy of squawks

and up in the cobwebs

-a broken wing

-an army of god

-cobwebs and tongues and elbows, angels and lips

sucked in/devoured

sin-sensical

drifting like dust on the sunbeams (PAINted glass)

-lamb of god

-leg of mutton

-leg of lepers

and no-fair seeing

this ain't grace

this all fucked

this old thing

a procession

-of broken

-of cattle

-of flock

-of orgasm shrieks

and beat/red bottoms

(i've never dripped in punishments quite...like...this).

there's a speck of dust on your father

in your shadows and up your ass

and

there's a procession of doves in your rafters