MADE FOR YOU AND ME 2: hive Being (Stanzas 2017—part 6)
Let's workshop this stanza sequence about out of body experience, spirit mediums, tween pregnancy, Jesus, God, a dying mother, alien abductions, conversions made under duress, sheriff-deputy gangbangs
can it be so wrong when Mary herself was twelve when she had our Lord? unleashing mental illness through faking it another batch of credulous recruits for mother-bereaving confrontations losing yourself in music without shame even near the crumpled homeless a five-digit number taped above the ER light to expose out-of-body BS how can a painter not think that appearance suggests character in some sense? no smithereens blast, the headshot left intact a sense—a distant inkling—of being tethered to a familiar limbo (if only in a fleeting dream) our culture has been obsessed with UFO abductions for so long that more than a few tweens have felt, more than a few sincerely, they could scapegoat aliens for the shame growing in their bellies protesters refuse to leave despite the weather, so with water and blankets the State must supply the very barrier to its controversial construction to fuck with UFO hunters, low-altitude aircraft flicker landing beams after dusk—sometimes in direct response to flashlights pulsing skyward for meaning, distraction, lies how to regain a satirical footing when the biggest joke is elected— in reality—to the highest office reports of alien abductions from US homes tally now well into the millions, and yet the wall-phasing aliens always know to go to homes with no motion cameras watching cops shoot your dog damp enough of a day that maybe we will get a tear from the statue of Mary secret fishing paths tended over generations by strangers out for heroism, the young sail into mortal frays orchestrated by distant egos sadness swells when we are all supposed to have dreams churches fulfilling vacuums in basic human services conversions forced on threat of rape beliefs formed merely in response to objections and doubts a city’s ghost story morphing with the needs of its people studies tainted by commercial interests an imprisoned hole made available to all the sheriff’s deputies the special circumstance of lying in wait saints signaling first as threats if the dead so often ring the phone, how come they never call collect? elementary-school sessions on how to behave around cops to avoid getting shot police consult psychics merely to show the brewing public they are trying everything “But don’t you want to talk to your parents?” the medium said in manipulative response to the scoff that cut right to her fraudulence aliens know to abduct the dumb: those who would just blink at the transmitter speck, if ever to de-implant from their nostril, before dumping the breakthrough along with the ashtray butts money incentives to keep disabled fetuses the imaginary friend that flowers in moments of crisis worried that God might go to another country so many swathes of boredom in war he understood it was the colorless black that awaited his dying mother, but still his last words to her were “Take care" do they not see that, as with so many, their minds have already been made up just in opening the pages of scripture?
This is a portion of an ongoing mosaic poem called Made for You and Me. This portion is from the first installment: hive Being (Stanzas 2016-2020). More specifically, it is from the 2017 portion of that five-part work.
