an angel’s injunction

she said some unclean thing made it into heaven.

therefore: influenza in the lungs of all the mountains

the ocean is turning white and light is cracking 

mid-air littering dead space with meteorite gunpowder.

 

the sun is sneezinging with yellow fever, cut, 

sitting coughing on a razored horizon, bleeding—

who knew solar floods turned an ocean red.

i said it was good the moon was in the ocean.

she said god placed it there to stop the bleeding. 

 

god’s been busy amputating gangrene planets, 

a pile of mountain-limbs, river-fingers and volcanic organs

red and glistening, beating and throbbing. 

they’re at the bedside table of every planet.

 

angels clean scalpels, check fluids and clipboards. 

i cried, because my christianity was now in jeopardy.