River Queen,
Have mercy on us,
Have mercy on our souls,
For what is to come,
For what we are sent out to do,
For spent rifle cartridges in the freshly turned mud
where they will rest for eternity,
Save those we find and properly throw away
in veneration for the Natural World,
For the blasted Coke and Sprite cans,
And likewise for the splintered bark behind them,
Oh, River Queen,
Look the other way,
When we delight in the incense that drifts warmly
from the hot end of a smoking barrel,
Our praises to you drowned out by the sharp crack
of a depleting 9mm magazine,
Please accept the discarded bones of our feast of meat,
Thrown into your swirling brown currents for slippery catfish
to curiously investigate but leave disappointed that the strong
odorous skeletal remains of chickens and pigs
are nothing for a fish to eat,
River Queen,
In our madness,
In our delusions of grandeur and manly attempts at posterity,
When our dark blood has been dismissed and replaced
by even darker liquors of foul fiery tastes,
When our tongues have forgotten words,
When our lungs are tarnished and torn,
Our livers depleted of decency,
When our feet fumble at steps an infant has mastered,
River Queen,
Forgive us,
Look down upon us and forgive us,
For we are infected with YOUR madness,
The thud of the drum that resonates from the forest
where your inky waters flow,
Has infected us,
And now our own hearts beat to that rhythm,
Our souls are dirty because you are,
Our minds are bent because you are,
Oh, River Queen,
True Lord of the Flies,
Do not forsake us,
Baptize us,
Again and again,
Drinking from the same cup as snapping turtles and water moccasins,
Until we come up bobbing like cypress driftwood babes,
Drunkards of gun smoke,
of moonshine,
of pocket knives,
of camaraderie,
of manhood,
We worship you,
River Queen,
And promise to do our best to defile ourselves in your temple.
3.28.2012
Have mercy on us,
Have mercy on our souls,
For what is to come,
For what we are sent out to do,
For spent rifle cartridges in the freshly turned mud
where they will rest for eternity,
Save those we find and properly throw away
in veneration for the Natural World,
For the blasted Coke and Sprite cans,
And likewise for the splintered bark behind them,
Oh, River Queen,
Look the other way,
When we delight in the incense that drifts warmly
from the hot end of a smoking barrel,
Our praises to you drowned out by the sharp crack
of a depleting 9mm magazine,
Please accept the discarded bones of our feast of meat,
Thrown into your swirling brown currents for slippery catfish
to curiously investigate but leave disappointed that the strong
odorous skeletal remains of chickens and pigs
are nothing for a fish to eat,
River Queen,
In our madness,
In our delusions of grandeur and manly attempts at posterity,
When our dark blood has been dismissed and replaced
by even darker liquors of foul fiery tastes,
When our tongues have forgotten words,
When our lungs are tarnished and torn,
Our livers depleted of decency,
When our feet fumble at steps an infant has mastered,
River Queen,
Forgive us,
Look down upon us and forgive us,
For we are infected with YOUR madness,
The thud of the drum that resonates from the forest
where your inky waters flow,
Has infected us,
And now our own hearts beat to that rhythm,
Our souls are dirty because you are,
Our minds are bent because you are,
Oh, River Queen,
True Lord of the Flies,
Do not forsake us,
Baptize us,
Again and again,
Drinking from the same cup as snapping turtles and water moccasins,
Until we come up bobbing like cypress driftwood babes,
Drunkards of gun smoke,
of moonshine,
of pocket knives,
of camaraderie,
of manhood,
We worship you,
River Queen,
And promise to do our best to defile ourselves in your temple.
3.28.2012
