like outsider art
the underbelly has always existed
finding each other in caves
gutters
seedy bars
and coffee shops
gently or angrily
pushing when they say to pull
as counterpoint
to the mechanism we think He needs
He keeps Inverting
As a rule, using the names
of those outside
who we like to
mercifully
let exist
inside
but, He has never been inside
He is in the outsider
telling us it doesn't matter out there:
where we were born
who we were born to
what they did to us
what they did for us
disordering our stories
tangling and re-casting
This is what we felt in him
You did feel it?
He called it the kingdom of heaven
and it is in us
