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Someone’s writing punishments in purgatory. They’ve got their sights on me, reading my story, and they’re all arguing about ‘can they restore me?’ “We should go for waterboarding!” “Tougher than waterboarding!”
Some of them thinking about a brand new gate, trying to figure out what to do with these kinds of mistakes. “He never opens up his mouth, but still lives with so much hate.” “If it is never spoken about, we don’t know how to seal his fate.”
Someone’s writing punishments in Guantanamo. I swear they’ve got the wrong guy, but I can’t really know, and when they hear, they’ll seek me out. They’ll find me sleeping, Joe. “We should go for crowd control, the air horns, and the smoke.”
Some of them thinking about new kinds of walls, so if you read the pages wrong, you never see his face at all. “When he opens up his mouth, he’s kind and patient, full of grace.” “But when he’s left alone, he’s scheming! He’s got evil on his mind!”
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2. |
First Letter to Halstead
05:04
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Matthew 13: 44-50
The Parable of the Hidden Treasure
The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which a man found and covered up. Then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field.
The Parable of the Pearl of Great Value
Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls, who, on finding one pearl of great value, went and sold all that he had and bought it.
The Parable of the Net
Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a net which was thrown into the sea and gathered fish of every kind. When it was full, men drew it ashore and sat down and sorted the good into vessels but threw away the bad. So it will be at the close of the age. The angels will come out and separate the evil from the righteous and throw them into the furnace of fire where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.
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3. |
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Five of us stood beside You. Four of us crucified You. Three of us shared a name. Two of us hugged the frame.
Stephaton brought the wine. Fresh fruit of the vine. Work of human hands. Rome-born in holy land.
Longinus presides. Lion feasts every night, then healed again in the sight of the sun ‘til the end of time.
If I had been there too, standing perimeter, can’t bother You. Already building a city of gold, tear it all down by rejecting Your fold.
San Damiano, hold the copy. Rebuild the building with stronger wood beams. Termites destroy it all, God’s little beasts.
My god, my god, why do I forsake thee without knowing?
Five wounds aren’t all I’m giving. Thank god you are no longer living ‘cause I would have hurt you over and over. I would have hurt you.
But after seeing You again three days later, like I always do, I’d cry at Your feet, saline for Your wounds. I’d say that I’d die for a glimpse of the Truth. We’ll slaughter the cock and then got him for food while we’re singing ‘cause he’s stopped singing.
Every day I sing praises to Jesus Christ, to the Nazarene, to the Lord, to the Son of Man.
Five wounds aren’t all we’re giving. Thank god you are no longer living ‘cause we’d crucify you over and over. I would have hurt you.
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4. |
Exsul Familia
00:46
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?ƨnɿoʜt ʇo nwoɿɔ ɘʜt ɘɿod bɒɘʜ ɘƨoʜw miH ton ʇi ot γɒɿq I blυoʜƨ moʜW
?nɿod nɘɘd ɘvɒʜ I blυoʜƨ ɘɿɘʜw bnɒ mɘʜɘlʜtɘ𐐒 ƨi blɿow ɘʜt ni ɘɿɘʜW
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5. |
The John Calvin Stomp
00:47
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*REDACTED*
(Rode to town aboard the mule. Sun was high in the afternoon. Mothers running up and down the road. Greenery spread everywhere. Cut down the trees to fan the air. Brush the yellowed tips against His clothes. Friends of His began to shout, “If silence enters in this house, the very stones will then cry out His name. This will be a house of prayer when His words replace the air,” Jerusalem, the witness to the claim. Gives Himself away and takes the blame.)
(Hungry then, He took the twelve in to the holy dinner cell, knowing one would leave the room still starved. Why delay the elephant? The fast-approaching covenant, He told them all that one made plans of harm. Glasses spilled into their thighs while each was asking, “Is it I?” Shame that no one knows the path they’re sworn. Eating well, He said it straight: “He dipped his bread in this same plate. Better for him if he’d not been born.” Then again, who’d spur the crown of thorns?)
(When our catalyst did leave, the Lord told Peter: “Think in threes.” Finest line between who’s right and wrong. In the garden then they’d meet as He prayed away cold feet. Sleepers made to sleep all so lukewarm. Running with the Sanhedrin, Jude began the Lord’s begin, Some apostles even took up arms. Once a man had lost his ear, God said: “Stop! The time is here!” Night deserves to build up from a calm. Christ accepts them all and then the swarm.)
(Judas, God’s own termite son, assured that all the prayers were done. Ready to fulfill the path of Cain, “You found me and know it best. Upon Thy cheek, I plant this kiss. Consider it a parting gift, though plain.” “Every dog must have it’s day. On yours, you’ll swing in fields of hay, field of blood, the silhouetted stain.” So the Savior took His place, crucified the Roman way. Save the story for another day. Rose again and never spoke his name.)
(Jude then ran off from the crowd. He didn’t hear the cock crow loud. Sought to exorcise the savior’s price. Similar to the pope’s denial, no returns, all sales are final. Rooster squawking, croaking, squeaking twice. Brushed the dirt from off his knees. The Pharisees and Sadducees laughed away his pleas as bird screamed thrice. Hard to say it wasn’t fate when the food his wife had made walked again, a poultry lord surprise. Bloated babe, they failed to find his eyes.)
(Why did Peter win the keys when he went to Calvary? Shouldn’t first be last and last be first? Shouldn’t last obtain the sponge upon the spear while head is hung? Quenching sinner’s everlasting thirst. And what of Pontius Pilate then? The governor who washed his hands? Coptic saint and martyr beat the curse. Now he rides a chariot. No such luck Iscariot! Neither camel, ox cart, mule, nor hearse. Only Jude remembered so perverse.)
(Hanging on the edge of town, feet have turned a greyish brown. Jingle-jangle coin-purse-sounding rain. Destiny did in the man, the one who hangs and one who stands. Give ‘em both a crown for equal pain. Fingernail god made for me, I chewed it to the bone but we all return to bone on that last day. Naked I came from her womb, a sinner I’ll return to you. Blessed be our holy lord’s name!)
Fingernail god made for me, I chewed it into dust but we all return to dust on that old page! Naked I came from her womb and naked I’ll return to you! Blessed be our holy Lord’s name! For the Lord once gave and now He takes away!
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6. |
Tower
04:33
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I’m off to building a tower. I’m set to get there in minutes or hours. Finally reveal that all-vanishing power. I’m off to building a tower.
Show me the child sawn in half. Show me the liar, then hand me the calf.
Hands on the hair of the arm when she laughs. Show me a snake bite, the staff.
Show me the bosom all bare, fully abandoned, what’s in is despair.
“Elysian ghost town," the savior’s declared. Emptied so there’s no there there.
Show me a river of blood or smeared on the door or just gallons of bugs, chirping and croaking their alleluias. Murder paves way for the son.
Show me the warrior’s face and the adulterer (ended his days). Show me while this guitar plays what he played, heard at the end of all days.
Show me the animals paired, every last one from the ground and the air and all the children (trade water for air). Show me their eyes, dead blank stare.
I’ll pour the foot for the tower. I’ll stack the stones for the tower.
Carved all the stair for the tower. Conditioned air for the tower.
All earth prepares for the power. Bring the translators this hour.
Satan himself starts to cower. Saturn begins to devour.
Who will come cast the first stone? Who will come lay the first stone?
Who will come climb the first stone? Who will come cast the first stone?
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7. |
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Lord, when You came to the seashore, You weren't seeking the wise or the wealthy, but only asking that I might follow.
Oh Lord, in my eyes You were gazing. Kindly smiling, my name You were saying. All that I treasure, I have left on the sand there.
Close to You, I will find other…
Lord, You knew what my boat carried, neither money nor weapons for fighting but nets for fishing, my daily labor.
Oh Lord, in my eyes You were gazing.
Lord, have You need of my labor, hand for service, a heart made for loving, my arms for lifting the poor and broken…
Oh Lord, in my eyes You were gazing. Kindly smiling, my name You were saying. All that I treasure, I have left on the sand there.
Close to You, I will find other seas.
Lord, send me where You would have me, to a village or heart of the city. I will remember that You are with me.
Oh Lord, in my eyes You were gazing. Kindly smiling, my name You were saying. All that I treasure, I have left on the sand there.
Close to You, I will find other seas.
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8. |
Leper's Melody
06:28
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At the time of my writing, I have not eaten of the bread nor of the tree in nearly fifteen weeks. My soul, I fear she weeps. I fear my soul grows weak. My mind cannot hear if she calls. My eyes don’t let her see. My ears don’t send her sounds. She cannot touch my hands. Way deep in my body, she plucks a golden string. You’d pay to hear her sing. I’d pay to hear her screams. I wished for peace of mind and found a pit, a well, a sink.
I live as if diseased. By god, for sins I bleed. I only breathe to sing a leper’s melody.
Longing to be alive in the trunk of a tree ‘cause once they’ve lost their leaves, they still believe in spring. But I don’t believe in me, only in routine. And God believes in me, accepting my routine, accepting what may only be a leper’s melody.
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9. |
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Have you ever thought there might be free WiFi in the Vatican? There’s no password, they just let everybody in. And when the pope takes his shoes off, the real fun begins. There are no bad ideas and they’ve forgiven everybody’s sins.
With all this bandwidth, we’re gonna cure world hunger. We’ll eradicate malaria! We’ll give thanks for Melania! As unlikely as it ever has been, I’m hoping for some free WiFi in the Vatican.
Hey brother, if you get out to that part of Europe any time soon, will you let me know if they’ve installed the free WiFi in the Vatican yet? And if they’ve ungirded their loins, and those water closets are also free, I’m gonna spend every last dollar to fly over that sea.
It’s pretty likely that they’re gonna call it “Why-Fee” in the name of the father, the son, and the holy high speeds. A drop in the ocean, I will sit on my shins and thank the lord for free WiFi in the Vatican.
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