Such a happy chubby baby,

but he was born in Adam’s sin.

Quiz him on his half the Bible.

You’ve raised up such a fine young man.

Sandwiched by the other infants,

hear my thrice begotten son

mourn for the beast’s indifference

to the corpse he will become.

He seemed depressed from his travels,

lost on the mountain, left alone.

Home, work, family, so wonderful,

his better half has saved his soul.

Beloved bone man’s countenance

in bright clouds’ raiment glistens.

Behold the son I will renounce

so my children will listen.

Oh, this is real, real bad, you know,

but I’m just fine above the waist.

I guess I lost him long ago,

I don’t like going where he stays.

While the boys are heavy with sleep,

the priest sleeps with the fathers.

Arise to live, condemn, believe

but tell no one till after.

Transfiguration, 2009, acrylic on wood and canvas, 12”H