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Easter Poem (with my 90 year old homegirl Mary)

 

Easter Poem (with my 90 year old homegirl Mary)

 

When one is desperate

One is not much fun

It’s hard to make small talk

When you’re desperate

When you don’t have enough to eat

When you have run out of money

Note I don’t contract when I talk

It’s hard to be entertaining company

Other than the car crash

People like to watch car crashes

They like to watch what’s left after a car crash

Brain juice on the road

Broken corpses

Blood lust

Just like they loved to watch public hangings

The guillotine they all cheered

When people were killed

They jeered the condemned

They like the spectacle of death

A social death is quite similar

To a physical death

They like to watch that death too

Someone broken

Someone beaten down by public opinion

Baying in the marketplace for blood

That’s human beings

& we forget that

& we talk about yunno

Progressive & humanitarian values

& all that kind of stuff

Sounds good in a meme

Sounds good in a press release

But for most people

I wouldn’t trust em

As far as I could throw em

Do you know the feeling

Of having to beg for help?

From someone who’s thicker than you are?

& can’t follow a logical sequence of reasoning?

It’s tiresome

Was that what it was like with Christ & Pilate?

Or was that what it was like with Christ & the Rabbis?

Reasoning with those who are thicker than you

But have the POWER to KILL you

(duologue) Me: “You think he didn’t defend himself?”

(Mary): “No”

“Ah…

 

Interesting”

 

Wow Yeah!...

 

… for me that’s the most frustrating thing

When someone’s ripped you off

& denied you

& made life Hell for you

& you’ve gotta somehow beg them

& they can’t understand that

It’s your life on the line

& they’ve stolen your money

(duologue) Mary: “but India… India”

“India?...

Take your time…

India & Britain you mean?”

“Before Britain”

“India before Britain you mean?”

“Krishna”

“Jesus & Krishna are they same people aren’t they?...

The same spirit?”

Mary: “(laughs) Yes...”

 

Every last supper I am born

I was born on a Holy Thursday

& every Easter I am betrayed

Every Easter I am sacrificed

(duologue) Mary: “I visited Jesus after he died”

“Yeah, well that’s a different thing altogether”

“He took me out of the Earth

Out of space”

 

“… pretty good mate…

Pretty good…”



 

 

Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2024.

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