when I reach the bottom of knowledge
you say it means my mind is shallow
      that under my depth is another
      what use in kicking against your facts
      you are a natural man       you are

a bargain-maker always       one who
twists the very tongue of god to yours
      or tries to but what difference is there
between wrestling and being wrestled

      I’d choke your brother cunning right out
of you       some divine combat ending
with hands tearing each other’s hollows
      brothers out of joint and sore unblessed
by any kind of father       but you

trust only sight       call for brute eyeball
verification while I sinner
      I seller of heaven for a few
red scoops of pottage       buckle under

the voice of divine indifference
      it calls out my guilt and blame but I
know my worth and that of the white you
have been bleached into while I stay red
as choice       red as the earth I wrestle