God over us
like hard rock covering land mollusks,
shielding them
from tropic sun
(like hell raging on Gomorrah)
and velvety ocean breeze
carrying salt to season coconut water.
Zebra type, like a leopard’s stubborn spots,
Shun the selfless offering
for the small of a hard back;
the product is beheld on hot concrete.

If we as March hares, fast,
hippity hop
in green pastures
his Spirit pulled from a top hat,
but when rain clouds change complexion
screening the eye of sun,
we set off along crooked burrows
to escape morning shower.
At home we are mostly wet.

Joseph in colored coat;
his reading of Pharaoh’s memory
is for his days
(the vision still stands).
Meager bulls swigging loaded cows
and Lot galloping hard
with back against Sodom.
How damaged are we
when children bear no children?