 |  |  | |
| scott owens |  | 1. Arse Poetica In the beginning was chaos, and it was good, but God, fearful of such mess, tore it asunder, separating night from day, dividing heaven from earth, pulling man and woman apart. And the critics bought into it, proclaiming Confessionalist, Post Avant, School of Quietude, and we, being good little Adams and Eves agreed, and went our separate ways, writing quiet lies of distinction. 2. Meat Jesus There he was, undeniably outlined in the fat of the first ribeye I could ever remember having, poor family, such expense rarely indulged. The first three were already on the grill, but my father paused on this one, perplexed to see familiar eyes gazing back from a plate puddled with blood. We all looked, and looking saw, and later, after the awe wore off, after the camera and the phone calls, after debating the definitions of sin, we drew straws to see who among us would eat Jesus. | |
| | | |