I
If a man’s not a Pope
before white smoke
pours though St. Peters chimney,
then no matter the number
of Cardinals proclaiming,
he is not.

But the man who is
marked by God’s finger
may crawl through all
the world’s horror,
yet coats and coats of slime
could nor conceal his election

II
And it is only the swelling erection
not the wishing or wanting or hoping
only the swelling opens the door
that leads to the slide
to the floor of the core.

No tapping, no knocking,
no tenuous fondling of Keys,
no logical sequence of
circling numbers,

only the swelling
opens the door
to the slide..

And the slide!
The deep purple throbbing, the pounding.
The pounding pins, rams us to the bottom,
where moans, pain, tears, laughter
come and come together,
at once one,
hands clasped together
as in prayer.