premature crucification

2009-08-18 | 4:26 a.m.

splayed above me-
his ribs became fierce.
while his arms pillared him up,
i erect a school of science.
we examined his ghostlike skin.
stretched tight, thin and taut
over bone peaks, plateaus and
his rigid awkward movements.
we study the nature of the sun.
his face is pink and strained
he looks down, half smiling
listless, quiet.
some strange look on his face.
philosophers! i call.
his head is lolling
quite unnecessarily.
i have to look away.
i will put on a play.
here underneath him while
he pants and stares.
a tragedy! a comedy!
either filled with irony.
and the players take their places.
i lean back to get a better look.
so i can see now above me
he looks like The Christ
from those european paintings.
white with sunburns and pink marks.
starving, emaciated.
skin curving under his rib cage
trying to feed his gut.
little tight knots of muscle
welded into his arms
and in patches between
the skin and bones.

sacrificed indefinitely in this dark room, i thought to myself.
but not to worry, the indefinite was defined
in a definite two minutes.

it was a tragicomedy.

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