Bellerophon says, I am an Answerist,
Knowing that god exists, such difficulty,
While others are busy between their nails of air and crosses of
air, I take the hit.
An answerist, it means more than a clean house and children,
More than a distaste for outsiders,
And much more than ten minutes rapt with the hands where god
can see them,
An answerist, so that bubbling revenge is the preoccupation and fast,
(not having an eternity to negotiate in),
An answerist, and while at first my nerves were evilled by the tangible
taste... better than ever they have come back to me.
An answerist, forced to proclaim the wry face against those
who aim their blows wildly,
Their unfledged eyes useless, knowing their wrong but not
its direction.
An answerist, with clothes among the emperors,
But the eggs I cannot lay, nor milt unfurl, a simple tiny price,
And senescence doesn't hugely gape, nor is cancer round the corner
incessantly,
An answerist, with pleasure zipping my soul to a cheap bodybag, dumped
for the orderlies,
Maybe laid in the ranks of likeminded friends, three or four more, or
even a massacre, would heighten the glee,
At one with god in all its portrayals,
At one with god in all its methods.
Curious to be in spate at society's lowest ebb,
When outrage weakens them, but I am reinforced in my knowing,
An answerist, kinda poignant to be at one with an accurate god while
deacons flounder and popes capsize,
Having the answer to god, well of course god exists, how ever could it not?
How ever could it not be made,
It was made for you.
