Wretch

Chews the fat with his creator
Over breakfast in the sunlight
Through when he says grace,
When he says grace, he feels enveloped like a shadow
There are evenings when this decimated world of movement, colour, form,
Is thin and getting thinner
When lights are dim and getting dimmer
when nights are grim and they’re only getting,
Only getting grimmer
As they barter their boulders and martyr their soldiers,
Teach a man to tear her fucking head from her goddamn shoulders
Held into the sun by the threads of her hair,
They impart a secret hatred from their fathers to their heirs
Suppressed and unaddressed the simple fact remains unspoken,
In silence left unbroken, on a bed bound and gagged
With culture, language, myth and law: our Goddess gave birth to your God
From a wounded womb where her flesh scarred and raw
Our Goddess gave birth to your God