Moloch: The Worst of Gods

I am angry.

I am angry about
the school shooting in Florida
the 18th in two months.

About legislative inaction.

About words and policies
frozen in amber—
no, plated in gold
and placed on an altar.

To alter them is to
rend the temple curtain
and reveal the thick
writhing bodies
of blind oracles
in red neckties
sucking pools of fat
from the floor,
fat rendered
from the burning bodies
of child sacrifice.

I am angry
this is—has ever been—
the way things are.

That in their flaccid state,
they lick their lips and hiss
freedom.

A dark prayer
to the darkest of gods.

I am angry.

This poem was inspired by an insightful comparison drawn in an article by Garry Willis.

 

– Ceridwen

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