This terrible god

This terrible God

I would rather say my god is high up
With the highest things
Voice like rolling waves
Universal and all that
Pure and all that
The measure of things
The last standard
And all that

Nope
My god is all dirt
Stink and frenzy
Totem for virile savages
Who look her in the face
And sterile rationalists
Who can’t take his gaze

Freud Lacan Jung
Behind all that ink
Behind all those books
Underneath all that text
Burning red pulsating angry faced


I would like to say that
My god is all justice and love
Washed so clean under bright robes
Lounging among the stars directing
The great machinery

Nope
My god is worse
Than heathen, amorphous
Has all sides demands
Libations of blood and semen, cares nothing of impotent prayers' words
Lives in wild places, the bowels and loins of all things
Insatiably starved, not to be consoled, worse than Dionysus
Worse than Bacchus worse than the Furies who rip flesh
And howl for more meat and bone and blood in the forest crouching over the kill
Black hair a death shroud

My starving restless god
Demanding worship, demanding
Submission, total, inside the wind, inside the river, inside the oak grove
Part animal, male, female, plant, bull-goat, clawed sphinx,
Beautiful Harpie, winged predator, a razor tonged siren
All the time singing, terrible Circe turning men to pigs
Horned bearded Pan the musician, laughing and playing that intoxicating tune
Will I never be free

I would cut him out
I would rip her from my core
I would dry it and bleach it and douse it
With anti-septic, burn them out but cannot

I look forward to old age.