Passiontide Triptych

(Text only for Passiontide, Music and Refrains not included) Part the First Peeps (Sung Basso Staccato, with rasping insanity) Every Easter I buy Peeps, little chicks, Yellow covered, marshmallow babies From the candy store. They come, four peeps, in three boxes, wrapped in cellophane, A dozen innocent apostles, Easter candy, soft and sweet, $1.19. (Funny, the name "Peeps" Sounds like pee, sounds like pis, sounds like penis), And I bite their heads off Leaving little boxes of bodies Three rows of four. I make marshmallow-chewing sounds: Rawwww rawwww rawww Gnashing, happy teeth In yellow dyed sugar. The sound of a tiger Who has eaten The martyrs’ heads, And left their bodies, For crows and jackals. Why not? Isn’t this how we do things? Are they not Christ-like? These little peeps, Martyred? Headless? They will go to heaven. And I, the yellow-mouthed devil, Will surely go to hell. Part the Second The Monk It was like… this sweaty little monk, in robes, just robes, nothing else, driven, focused, pulling on this long rope, coming from the bell tower. Making, in his pulling, all else irrelevant. His eyes screwed up. His gonads and penis beneath his robes swinging freely, like the rope from the bell’s clapper, all in unison, clanging and clanging. Part the Third Gonadus y Cristu 3A The Flagellation (Barbed wire fences along the roadside, imbedded, over many years, in the tree trunks. “They only hurt when the wind blows.”) Coconuts in the crotch Of Palm trees, Gonadus y Cristu Pure mathematical spray, Green to gold to orange To deep brown. Leaves thrown before The asses hooves, Hosanna, Hosanna. Children file out of church, They break and run, even today, Holy Palm Sunday. They chase each other Lashing with the blessed leaves As Pilot took Jesus And had him flogged. They gave him a crown of thorns And a robe and hailed him “King of the Jews.” 3B The Crucifixion (“From one to another Love is a transfer Of sustenance.”) Grandmother lovingly showed them again How to fashion a crucifix From the palm leaves. they placed it over the dresser mirror in their bedroom They took down the old one, From the last Palm Sunday, And burned it as one burns a flag. They left the others there In the place of the skull, Golgotha, the one to the right And the one to the left, Of “The King of the Jews.” “Forgive them Father…” There was a protest but Pilate said, ”I have written What I have written. 3C The Resurrection (That he should die And fall away is as natural As a coconut from a palm tree, Every year the trees makes new ones, “Every year I make a new crucifix.”) The boys perished in a fire But they are back now, Coming out of church, Still running and lashing With the palm leaves And fashioning little crosses. Little Nick Demos and his brother, Joe, The ones Pilate gave permission to… Mary saw that the stone had been moved. They showed her their scars, she believed them. “Rabbunim,” she said, “my masters.”This is not done yet, I'm working on the refrains and music. Written February 19th, 2002 © on Feb 19 2002 01:23 AM PST, same as above   20 • 0 • 9