Our country/earth which is of YOUR size


Our country/earth which is of YOUR size

Notre terre qui est à Votre taille
   Forgive us please our enormous bilious hubris
The quasar-lit heavens smile only down upon us
   For Our Master he presideth over the Universe

Our Architect-Father he beds down in the blackest holes
   Our temple bells and lodges’ knell toll only for Thee
While Thou slips from one parallel universe to another
   Yeah, notre terre qui est à Votre taille

The muezzin’s cry reaches far into the darkest cloud
   From turret to galactic turret resounds the prophetic call
Colliding antennae make a murky Baghdad morass
   The fallout heralds the bigcrunchy messianic massage

Our Master who art the shine on the Brahmin’s head
   Which knows no limbs feet chest nor shivering loins
Forgive us our cowering at the spewing Purusha mouth
   For Thine is the thunder exploding forever and ever

Did not a bodhi prince once keep a damning silence
   He saw no need to undo Thy mighty male tie
Lest he’s forced to traverse this soil again in rags
   Notre terre qui est à Votre taille

As for the other fully bearded nodding mates
   They are those who first invoked Thy game
They’ve now bought the world over in Thy name
   But prefer to run the banks ‘ere Thou cutteth the rates

Notre terre qui est à Votre taille
   Is the epicentre of the roiling boiling might
Where domes echo for the right to languish at Thy side
   And watch the Goya geek chew the heathen to shreds

Notre terre qui est à Votre taille
   All the stars you see out there in the ever-ever
Are but the conjurer’s balls dancing up in the air
   The illusory waking dream of the never-never

Notre terre qui est à Votre taille
   Give us every day the fireworks in the sky
For Thine is the show and ours the joy
   For ever and ever spinning a lie !

T.Wignesan, November 3, 1997, Fresnes-Paris (Rev. 2012, Paris)

From: T. Wignesan
Copyright ©: T. Wignesan, rev. November 3, 1997 (from the collection: longhand notes (a binding of poems), 1999.

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