Push

My God's in hell and all is well

Stitched up eyes and sickle cell

I cannot thaw the lack in me

Submerged in demonology but I hope beyond hope

I will not inflict

The wound that they left when they subtracted six million

So why am I repulsed by change?

A holy book has been deranged

And once a thing of beauty

Has been raped and cut to swaths by me

We breed to bloat and come and hate

Have I earned the want to procreate?

If you're in there, so hear me sing:

"I would choke for you, you're everything."

Burned at the stake (push it out)

A gene just a weight (push it out)

When the trauma leaks down (push it out)

And the bombs pepper melon sky

Hand on her skin (push it out)

The heaving begins (push it out)

The pain to which I cling (push it out)

Subsides as a cell divides

Awaken to her moans and pleas

Say, "Absent Lord, put strength in me."

I bend and break the metal bars

I would bleed to know just who you are

Push

Push

Push

(Push) push (push) push (push) push

Push push push push push push push

Push (push) push (push) push (push) push (push) push, push!

There's a cupboard in the parlor with a figure of a man

By the carvings of the tulips and the silhouetted shell

Who sailed a steady harbor with a not-so-steady hand

Naked but his Father's former belt he wears so well

There was a swelling in the threshold and a creaking in the floor

As a thousand thoughtless rhymes assembled on the shelf

While the Son and Heir of Black Holes, locked inside the drawer

With eleven Pilgrim Wives, sang "I refuse to be the twelfth!"

So he started on a plan the moment we first touched

(In the sorrow-ridden kiss of our parlor-ridden lives)

To be the tangle-coated lamb beneath the crooked brush

Of the Pilgrim's wooden fist until the Chimney-Sweep arrived

While attempting an escape through the broken metal bars

He hid behind the tulips, and when the Lord came near

I pressed against the face of the apothecary jars

And dreamt up a proper ending that I don't assume you'd care to hear