Easter Sunday

Barren heart shivers in the plague's tension,
No temple grows where fire harrow smoulders,
The body arches up to its three-crossed master,
Death's cold bed makes the soul's arrow quiver.

Across nomadic sky streams of plasma thicken,
From fugitive plateaux winds whisper Armageddon,
By Grand Central Station she lay down and wept,
Now her dragged dead fish sinks to lowered heaven.

On the cornerstones of Prague orphans brave failure,
Above the heads of Rome an actor craves redemption,
Yet this seat of redemption succours only favour,
So the dragged dead fish is never resurrected.

That vagrant on his tree is slowly choking carbon,
Beggars near Jerusalem oppose resuscitation,
Shadows of contempt rake the bars in Rio,
As the needle thieves of Sydney repossess their angel.

Undercover cops offer rides in old Jakarta,
Civil wars' contagion underscores their suspect reason,
Moscow cons appropriate the spruce of dark Chicago,
While Lhasa dragon's turnpike reinflates its toll.
 
23 Jul 2001