Wednesday, October 19, 2016

Rik George writes

Elegy for a Dead God

My God died yesterday. 

Outside my windows rat claws 
scrabble waltzes on the sidewalks. 
My God of the golden smile 
died in an alley last night 
among the orange peels 
and scraps of Styrofoam cups. 
Under the neon stars 
knives flashed and fell and rose 
to slash at him again, 
again, ‘til he fell and died 
in a huddled heap by the gutter. 
His laughter is lost on the wind 
prowling the hidden alleys. 
His unseeing eyes are staring 
at an empty sliver of sky. 
Overnight, I’ve grown old. 
I stumble.  My feet make echoes 
in the hollow chambers of our house. 
Outside the devils chatter 
like copulating squirrels. 
I’m too feeble to silence the devils.

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