Handbook
Is it truly tribal?
As through history we dial,
We see it is able.
Accused primal,
But upon every table.
To it I am bridal,
The sick to a vial;
With many a challenger, yet no rival.
The Book is it’s label.
A consistent cycle
For something so “primal,”
Consistently spinal
And to guide me, a bridle.
You could say it’s gone viral,
Having always been vital
E’en to the drinker of the seidel.
A sweet melody: vinyl
To the hearer, never idle.
It is my rifle
Against any supposing idol.
A comforting bubble
To every trifle.
Go on, ask Michael
When he made the final,
Or any other through any trial!
Faithfully tidal,
An enveloping spiral-
Idyll.
I’ll never sidle
Sin cannot stifle
Faith won’t wobble.
Is it we who speak libel?