The Final Heresy

Look on my face, in present morning’s light,
and hear me say, “These psalms are not enough,”
with stormy air, with God occulting sight.
You’re right! Add to the canon, your rebuff!
I’ve set it on my forehead: “dust to dust.”
Saint Anthony of Padua, we cry!
Though I am not a man for “God” to trust.
I will not ask forgiveness, when I die.
“God” has no absolution for my sins,
for acts against my brother son of man.
My sister, “He” will end, and “She” begins.
No tyranny can live beyond its span.
Unspeakable, we say it ev’ry day.
I only thought, there’s one more thing to say.