Compounded Evil
they pulled their carts though towncrying into the winds of change
"bring out your dead"
uncaring corpses piled high
trembling citizens
gathering in droves
muttering of omens
and splashing blessed water
with the wantonness of children
when the unseen strikes us down
and magic is the only explanation
guilt must be allocated
and blame apportioned
sacral superiors
now take the stage
whipping up the rage
incarcerating the usual suspects
fodder for the inquisition
Poetry by Wumbulu
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Written on 2019-04-04 at 12:32
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liz munro |
|
Kathy Lockhart |
| Texts |
 by Wumbulu Latest textsThe Syllogism of the MadLook Around There When Between the Posts Love Dies |
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