Death in the Wilderness, the Birth of the Anti-Bible and a Fish on the Moon

 
In the last of the Badlands light  
they gathered on the cabin roof  
feasting their eyes  
over the slow trickle of blood  
streaming from the old man's mouth
 
He knew until dawn broke
they would not risk one feather
even in Hell's Half Acre
for like him  
they were fearful of shadows
They understood the rules  
and would never dare gamble  
on a life
 
The old man  
tore off a rag of nonsense  
half remembered from the Bible  
but it would not wipe his mouth
or stop his luck  
from deserting him
 
Hadn't the Lord said:  
Ye shall die  
and return unto the earth
as sure as the rains fall
Gaze upon my sweet and bitter skies
and when it's time I will return  
for as certain as the sun rises
I shall be your savior from dust
 
But the Devil-bitch-pain  
twisting his guts inside out  
screamed: That ain't nothing
We're just getting started, old man  
Better not try and get on your feet  
Take a little pause right here
Enjoy the cold while you still can
while your lungs remember  
how easy it feels  
to breath
 
He would've asked God  
for more useful advice  
but even in the wilderness
that lazy good for nothing shit  
had never answered a single prayer
 
God had been a no-show all his life
ever since the red haired priest  
with crooked teeth and a drunken belly
had pumped Sunday School poison in his ear  
at the church outside of Casper  
all those godless years ago
 
Now the Bible was nothing
but a bad-ass joke  
shucking punchlines of righteousness  
harder to suck than a flea's teat
so it felt the right time  
to recite a few lines of his own
words he'd kept firmly in his mind
They seemed a comfort  
under the birds waiting eyes  
as the dark hush of night closed in  
to slowly spit out stars  
picking its teeth over a dirty yellow moon
 
 
“When the rhyme and the reason  
  quench the fire in my heart
  and this mean blood of words  
  is all shed
  May I find peace
  to rest with a smile
  and lie with my love
  on forever's fine bed--  
  dream life  
  was only the start”
    
 
The old man repeated his words
over and over  
until his strength faded
until he was certain  
those bird-brains understood
they could never peck out his soul
 
The Devil must have known it too
because he quickly deleted  
all his tweets for that night  
then stormed back to Hell
to write a personal version  
of the “good” book
rumored to be out real soon
and just before he died
the old man managed one last smile  
dreaming of a fish  
on the moon