Jesus tasted so
Good: all umami
Multitudes enfolded
In a meat-loaf one
Devoured with big,
Faces – snake-wide-
Saying – “This
Is ours now. You
Were a whale, Oh
Man.
– A purse of deep space
sheltering nothing – before you
Beheld…” his huge palms
spread. Converging, we made
black pudding of his blood,
distributed through Borough markets,
unbuttoned
– tender – his chest
with our teeth, sticky and red,
fraught with roses
under a skinny loam.
– Take, eat- we mouth
lips,
Our middle and forefinger spelling
A smile on dark beard-line with
Braille delicacy – This:
Is my body Give freely
It mouths licking away.