Bones Valley of Dry
(The New Deluge – Poems 2010)
For Bo I. Cavefors
Granted opium of the masses (free
Compulsory education in ABC,
Lust and atheism). I’m squarely denied
The sweet illusion of post-mortem fame:
Songs of God are locket in Satan’s vault.
Man is crushed by the SlairObama breed
Of monsters who kneel on his back and keep his face
In the mess of Godlessness. Men never rise.
They slither through life like lizards; they never see
The sun or the beauty of night; they’re forced to gaze
At dust, the blasted earth, the meanest state
Pension, a lull before the grave: that’s it!
The whole fantastic wonder of life is lost!
The world’s a
, dry and white. Valley of Bones
I walk among them and weep. Will they rise?
The masses are content with slithering; they laugh
To hear of sun and moon: fairy tales!
They’re quite hysterical to hear of One
Who made the sun and moon and the earth beneath
Their faces. They are convulsed with laughter to hear
The SunMaker walked the Earth. They mocked,
They cried, “Crucify him!” The truth’s too big,
Too vast for those whose gaze is earthbound, who lick
The feet of monsters who crush their souls for free…