Kill

he killed- murder shrieks out,
bless the heavens with the
father tears. he killed a child-
a frantic thought; she could not
have saved herself; the father is
seperate from creation. he killed
a child of the earth- the dust is
sprinkled. he killed- and ergo, we
must kill him; like a game played
tit on a child, tat on the other. the
father, stoic and far away- no tears
for the fears; no tears for the tears.
only the necktie; neat and pressed
by the rueful pleas.

they say, the quality of mercy is not strained:
but what is wrong with compassion in the
blindfolded eyes of justice? tis' in the heart;
not the vision!

only the punters win- humannity's blight.
the dust scatters, with or without our
father's imperative.


cuRRent...jer  ¶ 9:54 pm