Ah, Meaning, you who contoured the neural muck and set its slave limbs to dance,
You who left Eden’s door ajar for the coming of the waddling snake,
Seduce my soul and crease my mind
And tug me taffy-thin
So the mortician will know how to paint the expression I merit.
Ah, Meaning, you who splash us with sticky sex and lay mines in the moments of our love,
You who ruined the children and pushed them into the labyrinth stinking of meat,
Retreat into the citadel of the cells
Where you play the piper for the meiotic march:
Ride the cramping crests of our hearts while you plot.
Ah, Meaning, you who dangled duchies before the eyes of Caesars and Khans,
You who drew borders in the sand and summoned cyclones,
Keep the blood of the enemy honey-sweet,
Candy the brains and salt the muscle;
Hide the ploughshares up your sleeve like the ace.
Ah, Meaning, you who infected God and passed from Him with the Genesis spark,
You who gild the seraphim they nailed to our eyes,
Ring us now with our halos of thorns
And electrodes of brotherhood;
Cull our daughters so we remember the lands where the daughters are already dead.
Ah, Meaning, the bisque of my veins and the cosmological constant,
You who evade scientific vagaries and rule stronger as myth,
Give no quarter, spare no dime,
Litter no breadcrumbs and ignore my prayer.
Only flash once a decade out of some desperate dusk, so we may clutch a thousand dawns undeterred.