The Civil War

 I am torn in two
but I will conquer myself.

I will dig up the pride.

I will take scissors
and cut out the beggar.

I will take a crowbar
and pry out the broken
pieces of God in me.

Just like a jigsaw puzzle,
I will put Him together again
with the patience of a chess player.


How many pieces?

It feels like thousands,
God dressed up like a whore
in a slime of green algae.

God dressed up like an old man
staggering out of His shoes.

God dressed up like a child,
all naked,
even without skin,
soft as an avocado when you peel it.

And others, others, others.


But I will conquer them all
and build a whole nation of God
in me - but united,
build a new soul,
dress it with skin
and then put on my shirt
and sing an anthem,
a song of myself.

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