Wherever you find
a taboo,
you find fascination.
Wherever you find
fascination
you find an exiled god.
the ram’s horn
blares
“no”
but anyway
worshipers
enter
a collapsed temple
disturbing
foot-
prints
in ancestral dust.
Wrapped in their
suits of fall,
pious bones and
lapsed muscles
collaborate
to be holy at a
desecrated altar.
Is this the new age?
The new human?
The new god?
The awful resurrection
of the always
present
undead
past?
2002