stasis roars

stasis roars its nothingness:
and then: the cleansing whip
and sweep of foam:

eyes open to the chlorine.

i have smoked
the sweet blue smoke of love
and i have been it's Reverend:
bled the red wine of Communion:
Extreme Unction:

swallowed mouthful after mouthful
like swimming-pool water,
sweet blackberry mouthfuls of blood.

i have felt with my own tongue
that it is cold and clean and barren
in the snake's mouth.

i should have loved a lightening rod instead;
that burns and rises like a god again.
but i have loved the lightening:

wrestler-of-the-gods,
whose words sparked up like red balloons
to pop in the topless blue sky.