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glittering prize

glittering prize

when god was
the glittering prize
and the day rose
like a mountain
and we had
nothing to lose
only everything
to burn to gain
the peak where
god was in the
hand and gentle
as thunder in a
far-off sky
a far-off sky
you look toward
in wonder thinking
of the bitter hail
and the wind out
there in those fields
where the cattle
sleep the sheep
with wind-parted
backs of wool
like the red-sea
and the canticles of
falling leaves that
never land
the glittering prize
we drank toward
talked toward
listened toward
smoked toward
a god with a
smile of stone
we could not
move to curse
to hail us to
laud us
as we did
each other
god was that
prize that would
stoke the fire
to a roar
the house sweating
in the furthest shadows
our eyes turned
to bone in staring
up into the chimmney
sparks flittering like
incendiary ants
across the bricks behind
the flames god was
in the evening bird
atop the fruit and
vine of its song
the cloud sunk
through with sun
god too was
god of night
rising and we
upon the
the razors
of our
sought to cut
out and lift

may 2015

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