He walked with my parents in the cool of the day in a place I don’t believe in anymore,
just a myth, a campfire fable, of long ago, so long, I think
that they’ve lost their wits and make up stories
that make no sense, so unrealistic.
Imagine: no death, no hardness and thorn,
no bitter pain.
I on the other hand take life seriously
But I am a traditionalist
and pay my dues.
After all, this God of theirs sounds frightening
the infinity of reality
and so I had better pay up to keep him or it or whatever
the City will need, always need, some price,
some sacrifice, to keep the infinite chaos
So I meted out the share of God in my successes,
in the economic redresses:
corn by corn, grain by grain, grape by grape
until I paid exactly what was required,
just what was just,
what was demanded by the Judge
most awesome and terrifying
the God of Doom and Fire
the Destroyer of all Worlds
and the numinous darkness at the edge of my nights.
I reached out to the Infinite and left my offering at the door of tomorrow
and it lay there
there is no God, then,
Eden is a myth.
My father is not Adam and my mother is not Eve
the way they tell me,
the Serpent of self-deification is only a Babylonian legend
inscribed onto Jewish pages
whatever that all means
And my brother is a charismatic fool
who is happy
and speaks of Jesus
I watched him raise his arms today
in joy and peace
as he gave his lamb to the god-construct of my parents legendarium,
and he lifted his face into the light of the sun
and smiled, with sentimental tears streaming
down his face, and he had the audacity
to say out loud
that he now understood
I was excluded from this private little club
by an infinite cruel theology that pushed me away,
me and my culture:
Abel enabled by peace,
and I Cain, as usual,
There were two sacrifices, two religions,
O God of infinity, yesterday,
and You made your choice.
You asked for love,
but love is all and all is too very much,
and I too smart for that.
So today I killed my brother
just to take him out of religious history:
despite Your warning me that something called sin
was crouching at my door.
I opened that door and left.
Tomorrow and east of Eden
I will build my cities.