Dionysus' Children



        This is not a generation
        without gods -- why,
        Dionysus himself has taken the briar crown
        of the Almighty.

        (the fine-woven lace of a whore's garter belt, twined
        with the pungent breath of an inebriated student)

        Did we learn this in humanities class?

        No, we learned false lessons, outside of the magi's
        academia:

        of racing up stairs of a parking structure
             under the lamp-whitened sky,
        of kissing those of one's own sex,
        of bracing against the september breeze
             as quadriceps strain to propel bike wheels,
        of eating food service leftovers, rehashed and greasy
        of rebuying hair dryers
             left at home,
        of sleeping in the lounge after forgotten keys,
        of wrapping a study-drowsed roommate
             in a fire-warmed blanket,
        of rollerblading naked at two a.m.,
        of jumping from second-floor windows on
             an uneventful Tuesday afternoon,
        of dancing in night-timed sprinklers,
        of pretending to be one's high school self
             while entertaining parents.

        "These are false," the magi said.  "Indulgence,
        laziness, dishonesty, lack of discipline, sin."

        So we relearned:
             Dionysus is god,

        (and of crying for solace, midnight midday midmorning
             holding these blood-stained palms, waterproof)

        and the bottle is mother of the soul.
        


-- jennifer crystal chien