Sevres Jehovah’s Non-existent Saint

He recalls tomorrow.  He can do that.

He knows his God is porcelain and knows

Surrealism’s oils.  Immortal splat

Of death is his, a toy, because Christ’s rose

Has blossomed on that finger where a ring,

A wedding ring, was meant to be, the hand

Rejected since the red sea urchins sing

Among cold Gobi dunes made out of sand

From Saturn when it had no rings to spin

Since Allah had forbidden all except

His faith-infected beard and founded sin

Because he knew a Virgin he had kept.

  While Adam named the animals, his Eve

    Predicted yesterday’s past winking sleave.

~ Phillip Whidden