The Last Chapter of the Book

*

so many angels

so many convictions

the rapture of christians

abandoning christ

to embrace the beast

i am awake now

and watching

and can only warn you

of what i see

fear death by utterance

            *

the angel proclaims

to the church of philadelphia

where independence was written

on paper and fire

rises and the fire door

is left ajar and cannot be closed

and the bell is cracked

and the will of the people

is no more

as vast the mob

in the colosseum

riled to a fevered pitch

by the rambling blasphemy

bearing witness to

the vile pulchritude

as vast the mob

these angry men are only

grains of sand

on a salt shore

where time is near

and the orb will spin

and the stars will burn bright

when they are ground

to dust by sandaled feet

            *

o pliant gold

polished on the lampstands

holding the girdle of the angel

who points an angelic arm

at the lamb on the skewer

left for the beast to devour

o pliant metal

refined with flame

molded to crowns

of the twenty-four

bought and paid for elders

setting the timbre and harsh tone

of the trumpets of the seven voices

formed into the hollow

of the bowls

from which pours

the savior’s vengeance

o soft element turned

to censers and their chains

wafting the white

smoke of grievance

and the haze

of this unknowing

o yellow metal

distorting the reflections

of the souls who hang now

for these last moments

like ornaments on the living tree

cut and dying in a glowing

corner of the parlor

o stolen gold

would that you

could never be

shining from

the toilet seat

of a cowering beast

covering before the flush

the defilement of each

act of kindness

that defines us

            *

for it was written there

that the head of the beast

shall be scarred but

the wound shall heal

and his followers will place

upon their own brows his mark

to show themselves unholy

separate from the lamb

sacrificed on the spit

this very day with the onions

and the peppers of the earth

the kebab to feed the beast

            *

i am not

a churchgoer

have no need to step

inside the amphibian theater

to understand a false god’s scaly desire

no need to watch death mount liberty

and preach the sermon

with his palms extended

uttering his view

of our sisters’ place in creation

            *

the time is near

and only a few remain

who claim themselves

worthy to receive

power wealth wisdom

might honor glory blessing

they do not share

they open what’s sealed

peer into the abyss

summon the dragon

but settle for the charlatan

who winks and

steals god’s words

so nothing is revealed