By: Brent House

after revelations

Blessed is the father who sleeps with gospel upon a lighted chest   who keeps his word

upon onionskin

he shall tear awake strictures of blood   & his heart shall stop by peens of unprest water.

Blessed is the father who passes among the pews   who shakes his wingtips toward God

he offers resin

as a remnant from his labor   for his son shall write in aphorisms broken & dark as myrrh.

Blessed is the father whose garments dry upon nails   whose flesh holds the soil of fields

he tends a vine

green & free of blight   & he shall harvest fruits open with pure crystals of sweet pudor.

Blessed is the father who eats dinner on the ground   who sits on roots of noonday shade

Blessed is the father who raises biscuits in iron skillets   who pours grits like molten lead

in early morning

he offers a fine roux for tomato & resurrection   & over his son days will have no power

he shall reign

& this ordinant future   shall pass in a sclerosis of tracts & at the table he will take supper.

 Blessed is the father who keeps the way   offers no brag or big talk   he shall keep his word

redeem our ruin

among murmell people   he will roll his sleeves & his deeds shall burn as heartwood tinder.

Blessed is the father who offers cottonseed meal   & offers summer refection in harsh lands

in a generation

his vines shall grow lax & graceful   & in early morning harvest he shall have right to enter.

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