crux


welcome, i’ve been waiting for you for such a time
so sorry i didn’t hear the doorbell again
i’ve been downstairs slumped in a chair for quite some time now and your presence
startled me
nothing like the end of nothing
we’ll never get bored now

bring your daughter to the circus
make use of her amusement
i’ve got a balloon to burst, i’ve got a clown to sell you; i am...something of a saint
i am yours and yours alone
there’s you, then me, but no ‘we’ or ‘us’ or anything which might be cause for unity
that disconnection keeps me conscious to the...reality? that surrounds us
because i can’t stand you for much longer than the time it takes the words to be
electrically transmitted from brain to voice box
i also have an adam’s apple so i’m already one up on you
won’t you kiss my feet, just once?  just for laughs?

jesus is on the internet again
i warn him to stop going to those porn sites but i don’t think there’s a lack of
understanding so much as an overabundance of static emerging from my mouth
air does that to my sentences; that must be why no one listens to me these days
‘pam and tommy lee screwing...erotic, isn’t it?’
christ, almost enough to send out a check for forty bucks
‘tell you what...i think that when i finally get to meet the creator of Baywatch, i’m going
to make him a saint...he’s entranced hundreds of millions of men worldwide with
cleavage...there’s merit in that, i believe’
just nod and smile

‘you know,’ he says, ‘i’m becoming somewhat bored with this’
with what?  my humble reply
‘being separated from life as i am...it’s difficult to sit here and watch so many wonderful
people returning to the daily ritual of being human’
i say it was only a matter of time before purity made you its posterboy
to which he reply ‘it must have been the birthday card i sent to god when i was five’

i suppose being a god really isn’t all it’s cracked up to be
‘tell me about it!  i haven’t been laid in two millenia!’
well i meant that after some time it kind of wears on you...you begin to get bored with
knowing everything
‘what does time have to do with it?  it’s simply that omniscience in itself is not human,
that’s why we’re gods’
it would seem so...vacant
‘you know what they say, ignorance is bliss...the less one knows the more there is to
discover...because discovery is the greatest of joys, isn’t it?’
it may also be the greatest of tragedies as well
‘yes, yes i suppose...but you get the drift’

i ask for the time...he points to a clock on the wall
but there are no hands, i say, so how can i tell the time if the clock has no -
‘because here it is every hour of every day of every year...that’s what they mean by
eternity’
so death is merely an ascension into eternity
‘or descension, depending on your point of view...(sigh) so many have misconstrued the art
of death...and i suppose the only true benefit of being divine is that we really do become
more intelligent and more aware of what is and what is not...the unfortunate perspective
this gives us, however, is one of hollowness, being that there is no joy left in existence’
death is not quite an art as it is a way of life
‘those are two truths you have spoken, and therefore you must assume death to be a
balance of both’
of course, how human of me

i look down upon my flesh, the scars of mortality still etched into my veins
wondering how the remnants of life still linger in my shadow
for if this is truly ever-after, will i ever have the time to heal?
jesus raises an eyebrow, looks up from his computer and shows me his hands
‘still partly transparent’




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