Rootstock of Tangiers pt.1

The virgin was born before breath

Or at least breathy words

But definitely noted in Sanskrit

circa before and circled back around

She defeated the father with a loose grip

And mother whose puckered purse was rough to the touch

But still aroused by the prowess of a future crown to outlive all translations

They uttered her baby name, Nāraṅgaḥ

Now a side show name, Cutie

Or stripped to flesh, Delite

Or naked as a god without a wrapping, C. reticulata Blanco

Barney called home

After tracing finger rings 'round

eyes and nipples

Said to invest with impunity

Twenty five years later the goddess reborn

In all her sultry outfits 

Easy to get off

Harder to balance on one finger

With majestic nomenclature 

And tied up in legal debasing

Arbitration involving the king

His head nodding continuously 

Since the saga began

Knowing full well the gold in the hills

Having sealed the writ with sugar and salt

Delivered in arrogance because you know what you know

And there ain't no reason to over sell a good thing that sells itself

Now on posters and in commercials

We a know her and she is his 

And ours

And we thank him

With juice in our beards

And toddlers not choking

And office parks with flies buzzing 'round circular cans

Slight broads in heels with candy in their handbags

Okay okay

So, due to the extreme conditions in the San Joaquin Valley

Twas the freeze to end the 20th century

That put our dear king in bed with the devils

Alas, he was no baby Jesus

But he was of the earth

And so we followed

Because his belief was our intent

Our desires above his needs

For needing so little

Forgiving our trespasses and those of all other winged beasts

Three times as much for nothing

He said No

And went after the Moroccan orbs

Specifically a robust ascetic

Known to some as the Truth

And still to others as a Siddhartha of sorts

Being magnificent as all get out

He let that go, too

Got his hands 'round them anyway

Like the true Father

And the Truth don't mind none

In two years' time we will see what becomes of the demons in the architecture

Maybe things just blow west

As they always do

And always have

Berne Evans III