Poem – Callbacks



By Anonymous 2L Poet

Into the gray soul of the city

Flew most willing

From metal to the metal returned

Happily dined on the crimson Word

Us few, from dirt and grain and wide sunrises

Reluctantly entered their cacophonic temples

We took the Word, not we must?

We yearn for the old gods forgotten

Crying out: what went before the steel spirit?

Set’s knives rust in the Nile

Enlil’s priestesses to desert dust

The Yama Kings silent in judgment

A million howling midnight rites

Extinguished by steel and manufactured light

The Age of Cities holds the Monoliths

Billion-believer kings of crescent and cross

We cry out: why did you die?

We would not embrace the steel gods if you had not

Must we forget the torch-banished darkness of hill and dale?

And Set turned with a whirring oil-fueled click

Enlil LOADED between the flickering images

The Yama Kings twinkled in the skyscraper windows

Spoke in the humming cadence of the electronic virtual as it raced through the lines

We only died, the voices of ancient knives, when we were old

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