But soft like

[joel]

But soft like renaissance, like romanesque
antiquities— if solid, graceful in
simplicity of line and angle, arched
and classical: these airy Tuscan flats
that back fantastic holy memoirs of
a Galilean boy. Denial reigns
and lies so understandably persist
to realism subtly resist—
a joyful god whose Bacchus pilgrim trains
enjoy the endless ease of laughter, of
unhampered Pax Romana space— yes, that’s
a god I’d rather than the one whose parched
and war-wrecked flecks of life ferment within
a vintage not of grapes, but blood grotesque.

[Lightning Rod]

there will be a new form in the lexicon of poetry one day
it will be called the Joelean Sonnet

the only requirement
14 lines of rapturous iambics

this one bubbles like Perrier, joel
aqueducts flowing with fizzy water