Green Cathedral - Poem #40

The son of the Allentown butcher
will lead the way
point man on the sweep today
through God’s heavenly green cathedral

Verdant canopy reaching to heaven
flickering sunlight illuminates
mottled parrots red and blue
on the moss a mantis waits

Her body rises as he kisses her mouth
he knows not where he ends and she begins
Pistol and stamen
intoxicating flower

Why am I here carrying a gun
and not with her
where I would rather be
inhaling her scent?

Tread softly lest I become
a clump of earth.
Will the cathedral know
I have passed this way

if I do not bleed
and mix my essence with the ground?
Will my footprint remain
a calling card of our appointment?

This afternoon just before
the twilight of Apollo
I will kill or be killed
by the son of a rice farmer

 .