If I say I will not speak
of them or mention how they made a
name for themselves, then within
me burns a fire that engulfs my shaking bones. The
burning touches my lips and loosens
the tongue glued to the roof of my mouth.
As one President kills thousands and the next
kills tens of thousands, Babel’s children seizure
and throw themselves headfirst into the
fire, hoping to be relieved of the demon who
made crucifixion a lucrative business enterprise.
Daughters know your mothers;
sons know your fathers;
and people know your enemies. At the door they
wait to ensnare you, but you must master yourself.
If they master you, your brother will die
and the city named after your child
will house no one.
The ensuing flood of violence on your
grandchildren’s chrildren and their children
appears as unavoidable as the rising tide.
In those days, when people
eat and drink, marry and are given
in marriage, they will come riding on a mushroom cloud.
Stripes of blood against a white-washed wall
chase fifty Lucifers into the fallout with victory
expelling from tongue-tied lips.
With my eyes I see; with my ears I hear.
Know your enemies: in your name, they kill.
They build back to the sky
so they can see the havoc wrought with
smiles at the sound of silence
if I say I will not speak.
There’s a special prize for whoever can find all the Bible references!