Cadavers for God

The dawn cracked upon my eyes

but had no yolk, so I blinked through
the bland fogginess with no real hope
of redemption. I no longer feel the pull
of direction as I navigate my way
to the culprit. Demagnetized
with heavy crosses to bear

guess I’ll file for unemployment.

The North drove me insane for years
upon years – wrapping myself in bearskin
I felt the arms she chose to never wrap
around me. So I’d flee to
the East for my reincarnation
but they said I’d need the exorcist first.

I’ve lost my divisibility, I think,
but leaded hands don’t know much
about nothing. Us wanderers steal
precious space from the rest

But we’re great cadavers for God.