I’m forging a staircase to God...

A crooked cruel spine, wrungs splintered like shattered teeth

Tearing the cloth facade of the horizon

Rising forth from the foaming seas.

A phalic eidolon, from steel spawned,

sculpted from oceanic lithe.

My reason slept in a lustful weft

as my fantasies took a dive from incadescent skies

to taste of heaven through seraphim thighs.

I ascend the vine, transcend the line, from mortal to divine.

For I would rot forever, alone, just to glimplse the smile of you lips---a humble throne.

So I grace far flung nebular, and from the tree of eternity,

I pluck the ripest star.

But it shall never compare to you golden hair

and your gracefulness in that milky white dress

a celestial alabaster peignoir.

I heard God cry, weeping for his fallen one

and when I neared his face was smeared (with lamentation)

I commandeered a crystal-clear, deitific tear.

Then I fell.........

A dewdrop ballet set ablaze by the holocaustumed sun