Joseph Smith

Building towns out of nowhere
and churches that live
with testimony

You can't get what you want
but you made the word of God breathe
in the desert like a living rose
and you were the medicine
that became the medicine man

Who met the lord.
Looking out upon the face of a golden dream.

Do you remember the stick game, Joseph?

You were strong
and bright.

You were a mystic
the melancholy passage of time
could not dim

Though in the end.
It tried.

When you were young
you used magic stones
to find treasure
for farmers on their land

I am not sure
but I think you knew
that each year there is a silent day
the anniversary
of your own death

I think you could feel it
I think you could feel alot of things

You knew that one day
The men will come
with faces painted black

Kids with guns
come to end your life.

An inside job.

A requiem
for a dream

The Book of Abraham
And a prayer of Breathing
In the afterlife

Do you see
the Rosetta stone
standing in the distance
Do you charge
a quarter apiece?


There behind bars
You drew your final breath
looking into the face
of someone who cared

You tried to shut down a newspaper
that dared
to print the truth.


And in your last moment
Time folded you into dark overload
your heart singing like the light of a second sun
you flew back into broken vaccuum
And there you found
a prayer
for the dying


There will always be a place
for the seer
and the stone