Sixth Hour
A sudden emptiness in my gut
unexpected pain I taste
for the missed kiss desired and
the silence of the black shroud is
conferred unto the freshly dead
Trickling night forgets
the name of the first slayer when
in His capricious mania
Jehovah trowels ephemeral glitter
applying it with shining colors of
sun and afterglow of
lovemaking before raining it
down to the net strands of
virgin life when
shit hits the fan and new
concepts announce themselves with
appellations of rich-richer
hungry-hungrier unfortunate-less
orphan with
layers of fat under the skin
guiding He divides Earth
into lavish and dirt floor worlds
never daring to name exiles
whose homes are razed as a favor to allies
or filth in their hearts – those who have one
who never dare name multinationals
dark corridors of minds and agencies
commanding obedience preacher
commanding kneel obey
pay and counting as I cry in dismay
at the sight of full coffers and stomachs
before long the answer comes
from the lips of the faceless
corporation: who cares?
Manolis 