Argument again Religion

There is no such thing as skin. --Bhanu Kapil

In any argument for religion, there is an argument against it
Poo poo magic
Get the way out of my house
Simultaneity, the conscious regard
Of a thousand men
All traipsing through history
And murder
With its infinite forms
That rolls the skulls of time to my feet
I will argue against religion, not God
I will argue against magic, but not God
Not God, God is pragmatic, is practical
God is practical worth, a sacred act
A sacred act of sex that we engage in
A wet and various act of sex
In songs against it
Against the coming of the dawn, which
Will blind us out, white light
To bind us out of ourselves
Still even in ourselves
We do not know the thing we make
Still even in this poem, I do not know the thing I make
Still even in my heart, love, I do not know the thing I make
Against religion, against the mystical
Against the mystical crazy world
That has got me nothing, I rise
Write numbers in my rising
Make numbers every little thing they can be
Still, hear hear
This poem is about numbers
This poem is numbers
These words are numbers
Your spirit is numbers
My spit is numbers, my blood is numbers
My bones are numbers
My breath is numbers, my death is numbers
My skin is numbers
I slough it off, it is numbers that I slough off
Into the sky
And they go floating by
Forgetting me
Oh that they forget me
I find them so glorious
To forget me
Even as it was I
Who once gave them so much care