Gospel Lyrics

The gospel of silence hangs in the air

Waiting to be preached

The priest with bandaged hands

Pantomimes it

And it gives itself to him fully

Sculpted and pressed

By the lateral pass and swept

Exclamations of gauze

The priest has been reading the book

The book with pages of steel wool

With its iron covers open

Facedown on his lap

He has fallen asleep

And passed his hand up and back

Dreaming of lovers

The gospel of silence curled

In the corner of the room

Where it was late and the fire knew it

It watched the priest

Moan and undulate

And the streaked crimson

Of his fingers mingle

With white powder

Of his ejaculate

It went to him and offered itself

It's teaches a lesson of earthly love

The priest half heard

And forgot

And on Sunday

With bandaged hands conveyed

To a congregation

Of somnambulists

Shuffling over the graves

Of unborn children

Holding logs for the fire

Of streaked redwood

This silence