O God, Thou Final Poet
First master of the plumb, pier and prow
Utter Youth, and Cusp of Splendency—
O God, we castaways are drunk
Aluming a sky of ever settling nude
Our dignant thirsts denied—
O God, we steeped in silent agonies
Splutter much, in blaze and blush
Our metaphors to touch. Alas
Through falsity I will fester
This sea of human point and line, to carve
And Challenge Thee, God, thee.
2018