By Chad Hollis
And in the lamplight
the colors of the messiah
appeared to dance
on the hardwood
spreading ever wider
ever wider
lapping out the screen
and the angels
in unison chant
God is dead
God is dead
We sit transfixed
by the floodlights of Delphi
Beamed by satellite
to flash on our popcorn
bowls
five minutes after Jeopardy
ensconced by what is not
rendered blind by apathy
And fumbling for the remote
all of God’s orphans
utter a collective sigh
reverberated off suburban
Walls
and polished chrome
off streets pristine
and gutter grates
preparing to channel surf
as the world
goes up in smoke
burning to ashes
Images flicker
like dancing wraiths
tanks and mortars
lashing out
and maimed children
line the sidewalk scene
Too bad
and bullets fly
buildings crumble
as we thrust our hands
in our recliners
or seek refuge
on refrigerator shelves
A cola or two
before the sitcom
as we count the minutes
more carefully
than the bodies
extracted from the ghetto
or avert our eyes
from the five year old
mowed down in ribbons
in the playground crisis crossfire
We have raised to art
perception without reception
censored awareness as slaves
of television and social media
we have drowned out the cries
with iPhones
and torn out our eyes
to dream
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