NaPoWriMo #8: Thousands and Thousands of Bones

When he began listening to the speech
he was confused: how did the man
in the sky get up there, did he leave a ladder
for us to follow? And all the prohibitions
which most people ignored, almost celebrating
each sin with parties filled with clowns,
their makeup running from tears, happiness
or sadness, he couldn’t determine. He wanted
to interrupt on behalf of science, but it
could handle itself. All the facts joined its club,
showing membership cards to reality,
constructing the battering ran to knock
down the party’s piñata, spill all the candy
forever, no other explanation for its fall.
He loved a well told story, though, how
these biblical figures fell into prophecies,
how God was only a trickster, changing
what he wished for on a crazy whim.
Somehow he learned things about humanity
that surprised him, which revealed a ghost
in his cells that pretended it wasn’t there.
How could he reconcile life and death?
He would have to both pray and cross
his fingers, knowing a strike could hit them
without sense or reason, while others think
they’re lifted out of their cars and wheelchairs,
brought up in a rapture he couldn’t believe.
Wasn’t it enough that the sun sticks around,
like a patient guest who will come in
when we’re finally ending the festival
of rising dead, a brand new civilization
ruled by a man who returned from his grave?
This guy told his friends you better believe him,
though it was impossible, a heart can’t begin again,
the body must keep its functions going,
not interrupt the cemetery with its recharging,
the breath misting the cold, afraid of the stars,
thousands and thousands of bones about to erupt.