This Is The Piano Dropping

Spring Break—

2008.

All my friends decided to go to..

THE AMUSEMENT PARK!

Roller coasters,
long lines,

Funnel cakes

And a whole LOT of sweating.

Not me.
instead,
I drive and I drive until I can find
the nearest amusement park
and I FIND one.

The locals call it “Church”
They got this roller coaster called “God”
It is said to move at the speed of Holy Shhh…
“Shh” says the usher,
who holds these electric rosemary beads
like some sort of lever
And he conducts his here machine
Pages upon pages of rules
paste themselves across the wall
They call those commandments
ripped from this instruction manual called the bible
The patrons parade in one by one
the customers of this here congregation
Lips still licked,
from the best faith funnel cakes this side of
the red sea

They got this electricity called “Christianity”
They think its inexhaustible,
but you’d be surprised how fast they burn through that
I step onto the platform,
the passengers strap their seatbelts on like this
I look over my shoulder,
The pastor, the deacons, the bishop and even the choir boys
all got this woozy look on their face

Like they got too many bugs
or too much bigotry in their teeth
and they are about to throw it all up,
Vomit on the pews,
you know that righteous hallelujah don’t stay down for long

The ride begins.
I ascend towards the tallest drop in the world
They call it “heaven”
and the anticipation is killing me
and right before I can taste the omega,
we stop.
body as still as the fist of a quaker…

FIRST DROP:
I felt the wind go through me like one holy ghost
body submerged in speed and wind
this seat feels a lot like a confession booth,

an ark with metal wings, more machine than messiah
I feel like Noah, diving head first into my very own ocean

SECOND DROP:

There is so much contradiction
in this religion
I mean engine
Why is homosexuality a bad thing?
Can I still say amen if I’m not against abortion?
Sometimes I throw rocks at the pearly gates
from far far away
cause sometimes
you can smell nirvana on my breath
and zen on my bones when they bend
Sometimes I hate this twisted track
sometimes I wonder if God ever thinks his patrons
are out of order
my stomach, sits up
like the Pope
when he hears the word “Crusade”

Echo like a bloody stone through the Vatican
There is too much blood in this belief
too much Westboro Baptist

Not enough East of Eden

CORKSCREW:

I saw a woman naked once
and knew her body was more testament

than skin

I knew there were such thing as miracles
For example:
Light travels in a straight path.
It refracts, and cracks but never bends or curves
except when the sun hits your skin
each particle of light,
a single ballerina
tip-toeing around her silhouette
as if this was a dance they knew very very well.

LAST DROP
It’s hard to see everything
when it flashes past your face
Yes I have faith
No I don’t know in what
In love?
In people?
In myself?
Most of the time,
god moves so fast,
it’s hard to get a grip and enjoy the ride
I rode him into the ground
until the roller coaster stopped
The track
is one elongated halo,

full of smoke
My head spins and spins
And I feel all this coming up at once:
Inshallah, Assalamu Alaikum, Karma, Equanimity, Allah, peace be with you
Christ
I am a prayer
birthed from someone else’s mouth
released from the hands of some ghostly prophet
unto the earth I unravel and root myself in it’s gravel
and I still have no idea
where my amen is coming from