you who said before
between dark folds of skin you contain God
that pathetic presence wanted to be you so bad
attempting to install
longing to control
retract positions to a false default

why did you want to think you were ignored
when each and every angle of illumination
finds itself in need of your interpretation

I saw you urinating on the holy images when bored
going astray from a meaningless lord
numbing the mind, trying to contain
a raucous thunder that perturbs your soul

there's no triumph in blasphemy, you may avow
gravely oblivious
to the irremediable stains
regardless of what you henceforth proclaim
conciliums of consecration
can bend all will as they desire
to what their kitsch aphorisms require

as long as there are maxims to abide
futile fecal apophthegms
that can't be sung, but only rasped in phlegm
imagined prime directives
you dare transgress, sitting astride
in a manner that makes you mock the sky
"who are you, harlot, to provoke?"

and yet you say
without danger, there's no tension
how little fear us brings damnation
rather complacency that stems from separation

they deemed relief profane
the likes of mine perverted profligates
and your mischiefs they'll judge the same
mais ne crains rien

il n'y a pas de limites à nos plans ambitieux
c'est la nuit la plus longue pour se moquer de dieu

est-ce le ciel vers lequel tu lèves les yeux
dans le péché qui apporte de si moments joyeux?
I'm sure not
you'd rather get along
with me, be in accord
in severance from divine scriptures
disunion with a foul Olympus

so join me in convulsions on the floor
no matter what dirty names they call
danse macabre or a satanic tango
by any means we will slight this god
we're better

you see
how much Jesus wanted to be me
in Promethean impulse to sacrifice and violate
chaining himself to a burning tree
and yet the only thing he managed to birth
is human ardour raped
screaming miscarriage sucking out tar
from black incisions on a dying birch

bestowing metacarpals fractured by nails
intimidate through avaricious faith
in hopes one would validate his scars
am I supposed to quail?

I can accept perdition if it wakes your mirth
regretless verve draped in sensuous facture
and even fifty Thespiades in unchaste rapture
cannot begin to scratch your worth

little difference if I share your fruit or not
veins poisoned with caustic limerence
liquid silver stings like razor in the throat
venom of a serpent that bites with baneful words

there will soon come a time of catastrophe
a darkness, to particles of which there is one antidote
contemptuous illness made into a searing weapon
that only love can smash up and degrade

I'm sure you'll find a way

against the one groaning from envy
à travers ses portraits sordides
as if he is capable of introduction
except for pilferage and artifice
pouring from the mouth along with laughs most loud...

one with the price of a thousand enemies
quieting stars, swallowing suns
a splendid technique to drain life of time
malevolent, almighty deity

the difference of said effects
makes it harder to infer
by which blueprint were you conceived?
one thing is for sure
not in his image