Читать книгу Psalms for the Poor - Kent Gramm - Страница 18

the Lord shall endure forever

Could God die?—but there is no subjunctive

for God and death except for Nazareth.

Take that moment, then: Pontius Pilate lives

but all meaning has exhaled its last breath.

Now what? Pretend nothing happens reversing

the disappointment—no resurrection

and no Amazing Grace: sheer mere perversion

of everything worth claiming, perfection

of imperfectability. Now we

climb our minds like cats; we grow long white beards;

we shoulder the writhing wild cross of Why;

we say, To hell with it all, one more beer

for the Empire. What a nightmare, what a danger,

what a goblin gurgling in a manger.