This obviously worries at the same theme as my poem "Bowel on Legs," posted recently on 26 November 2023. The Biblical allusions in the final stanza are to Ezekiel 37: 1-14 and 1 Thess. 4:15-16.
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All beauty, fineness, gloss of mind,
Great thoughts, great passions, every kind,
Boil down to reams of gastric lights,
A’slivered, greasy, greys and whites,
The womb of life, no ifs, no buts,
A loathsome mobile bag o’ guts.
My true love with a look so sweet
Cried, “Yes and yes, and let our bodies meet,”
But her guts fell out and swung to her knees,
Hanging like vines beneath the trees.
The savant with his glass-clear eyes
Wrote wisdom’s books, compendious as the skies,
But his guts fell out in sheeny ropes
Which strangled all his careful tropes.
The mother and her new-born child
An each-loved Eden crooned, so pure, so mild,
But their guts fell out and swamped the cot
With oily snakes which drowned the tot.
Heads of state a’scheming late
Disposed of rivals, never governing straight,
But their guts fell out all looped in grins,
Purple-rotting like eels in gins.
O Son of man, can these guts live,
Their stinking heapings in a sieve,
What mid-air fiat might save this flesh
That’s soul and mind and tripes in mesh,
How can wet guts, their ducts and folds,
Be divinized to gems and golds?
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© July 2021
