Ribs
by Bill Yarrow
Man reached in the carcass of the Lord
and tore Satan from the rib of God.
The mountains of humility went silent,
the rain of regency dried its eyes,
and the clouds of unknowing began to know.
Snow masquerading as kindness ballooned
into bombast as the world washed its hands
of worldliness. Then indifference, stiff as a
wombat penis, stirred and woke from the dream
of cascading penury. I am imbricated by the
slabs of dead ideas. I am teased by vaults of
no gold. Ghosts hold me to votes I disavow.
There is a formidable hole in the latent sky.
It takes all my strength not to worship it.
and tore Satan from the rib of God.
The mountains of humility went silent,
the rain of regency dried its eyes,
and the clouds of unknowing began to know.
Snow masquerading as kindness ballooned
into bombast as the world washed its hands
of worldliness. Then indifference, stiff as a
wombat penis, stirred and woke from the dream
of cascading penury. I am imbricated by the
slabs of dead ideas. I am teased by vaults of
no gold. Ghosts hold me to votes I disavow.
There is a formidable hole in the latent sky.
It takes all my strength not to worship it.
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Author's Note
This poem appeared in New World Writing (formerly BLIP Magazine), guest edited by Courtney Eldridge.
The poem appears in Pointed Sentences (BlazeVOX, 2012) and Blasphemer (Lit Fest Press 2015).
Other stories by Bill Yarrow
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These lines, Bill:
"I am teased by vaults of
no gold. Ghosts hold me to votes I disavow.
There is a formidable hole in the latent sky."
That hole in the latent sky. Goodness. Yes to the poem.
I keep negating every comment that comes into my head then rereading it to come up with another comment. I'm gonna take a break and come back to it later. But I know I like it.
Totally love the concepts here. Am riven with envy at the way they are rendered. Jealousy is not a good thing and I don't know why I feel that way. Could it be ... Satan!
"imbricated" The late William Buckley talked like that. Few people can talk that way and get away with it, you know. Well done.
enviously faved
(secretly making notes to copy the ideas here - no, just kidding. Right.)
Thanks, Bill. Stop worshiping the hole in the sky. A good reminder.
A mirror image (maybe the fun house variety) of today's world. This really packs a punch.
*
..Snow masquerading as kindness ballooned
into bombast as the world washed its hands
of worldliness...I am imbricated by the
slabs of dead ideas...great writing on display right here.
Excellent. Favorite.
Wonderful and brutal.
*
and honestly, I'm really wanting some ribs now.
St Louis...dry rub :)