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?