Tenth Canto
I discover eloquence in ash falling
like opened wishes of thirsty lips
and marking my share of urgency
I retract the curtain to reveal
an orchestra and chorus harmonies in
celestial reverb with the dynamism
of a faceless entity that dresses itself
in crimson riding greed on
some apocalyptic horse carrying
conversion coercion assimilation
proselytizing consequence of infidels
the necessity of martyrdom which started in
primeval depths of Miseria Dura
the end justifying any means with colorful
insignia of archons and beacons of
lords and crests flying high potent
cross banners unfolding speed to
deep grooves and flattening the firm virgin’s
breast the zealot’s façade
transforms into wrinkled face of the moon
over me standing on the steep-cut road
indifferent to his imminent demise
I witness a beheading and
everything shifts right
powered by a limited company acting as if
controlling infinite growth as if reaching no end
as the wise dandelion retains
bitterness for blood
virulence spread on faith’s
path unflinching curtain asks the same
question and the off-tune chorus
answers: I can do better
Manolis Aligizakis 