The list of wives

The list of wives

The one who rises from endless sands of the East,
Claiming no one else will ever carry
The true light,

His thoughts shaman around the fire
Of our oldest dreams. Fit by his faked fit
Ancient books

Are cast into a new cauldron. This cook brings
No feeding word but serves unfettering bite
To suffocate

All delight. Spy him, see him sword
His way, spat blinkered, truculent crowds.
Bewitched, blind

To reason, unable to question, his ensnaring hordes
Roll heads of the executed
In dusty yards

Of their sick amusement. The little man
Orders shrouding of breasts, hair, faces,
Yet every night

Sees him punt atop his underage wife.
Stripped of joy, devastated
The conquered groan

Under the rod of the retarded book.
I went to heaven, body and soul, and you can trust me:
He flies there

With all the other pigs. Weak brain, looted by empty demons, why
Didn’t you mount your favourite horse and ride,
Ride until

The end of land, dive off, emancipate us
From your disturbances? Every day I miss
Old everyday gods,

Free of bellicose insinuations,
Pugnacious like Brazilian parrots
Treacherous and greedy,

Wearing tangible faces and faults. My old friends, I shall join you soon,
Sit by never-pillaged fire, share small stories and wine,
And merry.

error: Content is protected !!