smell
the lovely decadence
of rotting flesh and
rotting
hearts;
cry
softly now, so as
not to wake the sleeping
child
he'll just scream with you
as the black locusts swarm
from
the back of his throat
run
to the ark
leave the
dead behind
don't look down on Gomorrah
don't listen to
their
screams, girl; don't watch the waters
swelling and
rising
washing over everything
killing sinners and children
as
you stand on deck unscathed
by all but the rain
cooling
your
wounds
walk slowly numbly
go feed your animals,
girl;
the King wants his meat
fresh killed gazelle but the
queen
is still seasick so
you'll just have to
sacrifice
lambs for the lion
don't let blood
drop;
stand
lookout with none
but you who survived, and them
the bloated
corpses
you pretend not to see float
as you watch the
sky
look!
from above
flies the divine sign
Ishtar has
released the sparrow
your doves flock no more
trembling to
the olive branch
blessedly alive
unlike the weaver's
daughter
and so many others
cry
aloud now
in joy and
in pain
released to a land no longer
as substantial as
the skeletons of cities
long left to drown with
the fluttering flags of old
Atlantis;
sinner's world
washed off of ours
replaced by some god's promise
of
a pale rainbow