Baptizing the Father

dontcha know sister saphire
that catholic church steps
make for piss poor lunches for
three wolf ravenous wild poets
lurking and hoping for sacred
communion with the virgin mary
scorched desert thirsty for the
blood of our sweet sweet jesus
and all that the smug pink priest
gives us are dirtied stone statues
and spear-tipped rusted iron fences
not even a plump juicy nun full of
repressed carnal temptation to join
us for a swig of sacramental wine

so we drink down cheap tokay and
split day-old stale white bread on
the gray worn stone church steps
jeer at the horrified nuns primping
properly past us hurrying to warn
the pharisee priest of impending peril
(that's us) and mongolian hordes
(that's us) dancing brazenly in sodden
ceremony for the crucified baby jesus
lord knows he’s not the only damned
christ on a cross in this dead grey city

yes turtle woman you are of the
earth and also of festering rages

i know your laughter and your snarl
at soft fat priests and shriveled
nuns with sucked lemonrind lips
i know your empty wine bottles
smashed on pointed iron fences
and on the bleeding stone statue
of a christ who is much more dead
in this city than any jesus that
weeping mary magdalene could
witness in resurrection from the tomb

bird woman tips the bottle and
passes me the roach, hisses at
the priest and flips off the nuns
smacks me hard on the shoulder
and grins a crazy woman grin
while taking off her blouse and
baring her full woman's breasts
at the leering sneering lips of
the priest's righteous certitude
would you like to see my pussy
father death would you like to see
where sacred life really comes from

and i old eagle man spread torn wings
and do my staggering death dance
dance for the dead dead world of
dead priests and dead pale shriveled
nuns' pussies and dead cracked concrete

and dance for rusted steel city heart
dance for the factories and highways
manufacturing death and carrying death

dance for dead skeletons walking along
dead spit streaked city sidewalks and
i tilt my bottle of sweet tokay to the
priest throw him a finger and wolf grin
and kiss him softly on his fat dead lips

father i baptize thee in the name of
the angry father the crucified son the
holy fucking ghost of lost angels
and raped little boys and dead
children soldiers crusading for
george bush's jesus in far off iraq
and the desecration of the amazon
and oil wells in the pristine artic plain
tell him to say 40 solemn hail marys
pray to the virgin and kiss my ass