Christ

all my good sins,  
all my bright lies and dark truths  
were splayed  
on abraham's pious rock,
sacrificed to my father's good god  
for nada  
 
i knew i wasn't clean  
even as His Body nestled on my tongue  
 
and even that last, long shot,  
the Lord, broken,  
His sad eyes rolled,  
His plaster stripes and spikes in deep  
and all of it for me, for everything i'd done  
      or might do  
or wanted to,  
even that was out of reach  
 
and oh, my First Sweet and Holy Love,  
my Poor, Pale Anointed,  
i shook you off just too late  
that we might stand,    
two feeble ghosts amid the dust and rubble  
of this old man's life