Poem: Our God is Our Stomach

Tim O’Brien writes, “Truth is felt with the stomach.” I love that. In many ways I believe it too. We follow our hearts, we go with our gut feelings. Even the Ancient Hebrews believed that the soul was something that existed in the belly. From it the felt, with it they believed and therefore worshipped God. Truth though, like anything, has a way of being perverted. The stomach is for food (and I suppose feeling the truth. But in often I (maybe we?) don’t use it for such.

 

Our God Is Our Stomach.

By Paul Tomes

 

Clawing naked

Through the crowds,

Dragging his chin,

Mortal’ed by lonelihood

And blood, breathing in

What crudely

Struck his cheeks.

 

We spat him forward,

Inch by inch.

Spat upon, spat up—

Regurgitated the yellowed

Bile burning in our guts—

Where truth is felt.

 

But he, hoping in old proverbs,

The words to reign in place

Of a soiled kingship,

And dogs to return

To a pile of vomit

 

Which we greased with saliva,

Our bread swallowed,

Soggy and choked with phlegm

To dilute the wine-vinegar we

Left to ferment in a dark

Stomach for days.

 

I welcome your comments.

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