Fasting: Day 1

Couldn’t sleep last night,
was nervous and dreamed
about not eating and deteriorating
in three days time. How silly
it feels to inflict pain upon myself
for days in order to achieve a level
of personal enlightenment.

I am unsure anyhow if any of it is real.

My bucket list says to first fast
in order to scoot closer to God
on the couch of transmigrating souls.

Then, it states to believe in God.
That is last on my bucket list.

It is the ultimate reasoning behind
the creation of the list. I believe
God may be hiding like a School
House Rock montage within
all that we do, within my bucket
list trips to graves and museums
and Rocky Horror midnight shows.
I believe God may be peeking
from behind the gravestone,
buried in the grass, hiding
in the anus of a transvestite.

So here I am reading the Sparknotes
for both the Old and New Testaments.

I am nothing but a life cheater anyhow.

My mind is straining out the poetry
for once, focusing on the mere summary
of the arc of Noah and his descendants,
focusing on the misconceptions that Adam
and Eve and Cain and Seth created
the human race when a flood killed
them all anyhow.

And my stomach is growling like Ginsberg
howling in a street, male lover by his side.

Happiness, I call it.

And Sarai, Sarah, is pregnant at the age
of ninety, and there is much incest,
much polygamy in that book.
And our world turns up its noses,
the smell of hypocrisy like Ginsberg’s
cocks and genitals and Moloch.

That is the true Moloch of his and my
own mother’s deaths, the true Moloch
of the world: hypocrisy.

Moloch like poison, my stomach
like a graveyard.

This is day one of my own hypocrisy.