Thursday, December 9, 2010

In Response to the God(s) of Ecumenical Politics

Breathe me, the power:

twos bend over the back of hard labor

nines slit their wrists over the kitchen counter

Threes are serial injectors, stealing catharsis as trophies

Fives claw, lungs scoured clean

Fours scream black and bloody against the electric sizzle of

bare cattleprods

Ones smoke cigarettes calmly, on the curb,

waiting

and sixes provide cannon fodder,

ashing the cache of science

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