Tuesday, February 21, 2012

3470. FATHER MALTHUS

FATHER MALTHUS
In those days, we were all supposed to die : fever, plague, dengue.
Then someone came by and washed my house, whitened the walls,
cleared the well of filthy water, and opened even my own eyes.
To all that was going on, to the world of filth wherein we dwelt.
-
I knew very little. You searched my soul without a warrant,
even then  -  walking off with things you took, stripping my
moments of any moment or meaning alike. You called
yourself a Cardinal and a Priest among men. All that
balderdash and the village let you be  -  big stupid hat,
vestments like a King, and a know-nothing brain with
a mouth that wouldn't stop. Horses should have 
torn you apart. And everyone knew it.
-
There was no allegiance to peace or to love,
and everything you did was evil. Killing the
blacksmith and taking his wife. Burning the
commons in the guise of removing a Devil.
Something had to give. Us or you. So many
simply wished you were dead.

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