126. cities, a cymbal, an exaltation

holy fillets rise! ready the red,

marshaled messiah from inside his head —

bold and brights, to the right, and

geese, gold, and silver, all on the left

the fillets were foreign, imported in

from faraway where they normally swim,

obviously, they’re taken apart, so,

each fish, alone, is represented by two

messiah was making a gargantuan stew,

and geese were flown in specially to

fatten the fois gras with long bendy tubes,

that up from the waddles handily grew

fillets and fois gras, cakes and combustion

(missionary mike’s in charge of the ruffage),

celery, cornbread, carrots, and leeks,

make up the base of believers beneath

believers begin to get up the hot

whenever messiah tells ‘em what’s what —

messiah, right now, is talking about

what he would for a bit of sauerkraut

in the outside, spread far and wide,

peopled by boats, and believers, and chives,

which grow between, in bunches of five,

bending toward the apostle assigned

apostles, overtly, are just pigs in clothing

who move about the believers below, and

whisper the message messiah is throwing —

now it’s about pelican roasting

pelicans haven’t much meat on them, really,

in fact, it’s almost all beak and gristle,

but, if you collect enough of the bones, you

can crack them apart and eat up the marrow

when messiah’s done (with, what, the preaching?),

believers feast on themselves and the geese, and

fillets will fly back wherever they’re from,

minus, of course, the flesh and the skin

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