The Telephone and Television Age

 Rejoice, beloved, the body is praising your unravelling!   your unsightly breaking like the sigh of the earth  drenched after drought   Debris and dust and the mist   of a corporeal apocalypse   No chastity of angels or shame of saints   could have charred one to the bone   as yours leaves you ablaze   In the air a phantom scent so faint   the oxygen breath of the rain.