Dec. 4: Who are you, Electric Angel?

How many denizens are left 

who long for your completion?

And why do you stay with me,

lingering in my soul,

like you own it too?

I've grown tired

of speaking of you.

You have robbed me

of my youth.

And you won't go away.

For I am nothing

without your story.

All you who think you know me -

father

magician

editor

lover

whatever.

It is the Electric Angel

who sits on my shoulder

asking his eternal question:

When?

I am prepared for the controversy.

Let the God haters condemn me

for inhumanity.

Let the believers

accuse me of blasphemy.

Let Malona

wherever she may be

wait for me

at the lakeshore.

Let the lightning

strike the lake.

Let the guilt

define him some more.

Let the blood

flow from his hands.

Let the women

fall at his feet.

Let his friends die

by their sin.

And let the eagle's wings

sprout from his shoulders.

And yes

there is a picnic table

that still overlooks Jackfish Lake.

A ghost will always sit there.

One day,

I will give him his flesh.