9-Grain Jesus

Many thanks in a pretty blue box,
And a cellophane promise
of near eternal shelf-life.
Body of Christ, O.T.C.
(just add Welches - sweet
Purple blood in a bottle). Bland
Doctors of the modern church
Prescribe a Saltine pill
The size of a TicTac -
Without the salt,
Without the sweet -
Once-a-week to guarantee
Community, chased with that blood
That causes cavities.

And here come the Whole Food
Faithful, organo-hippie
Holistics, who Feel For You.
9-Grain Jesus, the Whole
Body of Christ and a glass of
Cabernet. Tipsy, taste and see
That the Lord is ... ooh,
Is that a little seed in there?
Little kingdoms inside
My half-pound loaf.
I could plant this bread
And start a garden,
Or write a folk song
Expounding on the meaning.
Or is it just the wine talking?

Is there need for the bread to tell
A new story, or the wine to sing
A new song? Isn't the story
That was the seed, the song
That made the kingdom
Sing, aren't they big enough
To be contained
In one Eucharistic Chicklet
and some grape juice?