The Earth needs The Sky.
Deeper than via negativa
It is more than knowing the self by what it is not.
As once there was only me and then there was this breast.
Roots in the ground.
As Important as branches thrust in the air.
As important as these autumnal leaves withering in anticipation of this frost.
But more, That sky needs this Earth.
I am too old to long for a holiness and purity
unchallenged by the mire.
Fuck your harps.
My God plays an electric guitar.
That feedback screech thrum?
I have had enough of you priests.
Here comes the prophet.