Bow Down Thine Ear
Gods used to be transcendent, far beyond,
Above, away, unreachable on cliffs
Too high to scale. We, humans, were so fond
That we imagined Gods behind white whiffs
Of mists in sacred precincts set aside
By prophets, designated by drugged priests,
Or just created in our brains. Astride
The cosmos but above our drunken feasts,
Divinity could not be bothered to
Behold us, much less watch or touch us when
We prayed, except when we killed virgins, blue
Of eye, or youths still beautiful, not men.
..The Gods might glance a moment at the streams
….Of blood, with relish for the tenor screams.