I am nailing them up to the cathedral door Like Martin Luther. Actually, no, I don't want to resemble that Schmutzkopf (See Erik Erikson and N.O. Brown On the Reformer's anal aberrations, Not to mention his hatred of Jews and peasants), So I am thumbtacking these ninety-five Theses to the bulletin board in my kitchen. My proposals, or should I say requirements, Include at least one image of a god, Virile, beard optional, one of a goddess, Nubile, breast size approximating mine, One divine baby, one lion, one lamb, All nude as figs, all dancing wildly, All shining. Reproducible In marble, metal, in fact any material. Ethically, I am looking for An absolute endorsement of loving-kindness. No loopholes except maybe mosquitoes. Virtue and sin will henceforth be discouraged, Along with suffering and martyrdom. There will be no concept of infidels, Consequently the faithful must entertain Themselves some other way than killing infidels. And so forth and so on. I understand This piece of paper is going to be Spattered with wine one night at a party And covered over with newer pieces of paper. That is how it goes with bulletin boards. Nevertheless it will be there. Like an invitation, a chalk pentangle, It will emanate certain vibrations. If something sacred wants to swoop from the universe Through a ceiling, and materialize, Folding its silver wings, In a kitchen, and bump its chest against mine, My paper will tell this being where to find me.