In the sky we saw the deal we’d been looking for
since the year Max Planck died and then a couple more:
only 19.99 to buy into this divinity.
Own a share of your symbolic God and Oh ! God !
Stock splits, quick, add that s to symbolism, bless the spirits,
split your losses, mend your atoms, hold black bodies to your chest
and build them shelters in this storm, and plank yourself in whatever constants
you can afford.
Imagine that shift in frequency –
the ring of freezing lightbulb walls spitting up the harshest light
as your infant spiritual singularity glows a little less bright.
Gods are what you make of them, the sky now said,
so quantize the planes above and bathe in this 19.99 rite.
I’m sold.
I now own one trillionth of the first recorded prayer:
on the absolute reality and its planes,
on that finest spiritual light,
we meditate, as remover of obstacles,
this is what enlightenment feels like.
Candleships 