Lacrimosa For Today Poem by guillermo veloso

I picture that soul in a jar
I picture it sullen and defeated
I stare through the
Grease smeared glass that hides
Us from the prying eyes and prodding hands
Goddam its dark: how dark can it get!
Confessing sins in the velvet lined
Musty-priest-stained-sanctified-saintly-sophist-god-abandoned-lost-cause-
Mary-blessed-crucified-jesus box
Q, P, M, lost gospel and all
Thomas stepped out and Paul took over
Nicea was a bitch
Gangsta apostle takeover on the back street
Jesus of the roman hood
Carjacked-hijacked-Godjacked now
Merton alone in that desert
Sees god, but why is he in the desert?
Why not the ghetto?
I need a ghetto Merton
Live there bro! !
That's where a god should live.
Look out for Jesus in the puddle of
5 year old blood.
Can you find him?
That's your slaughter of the innocents.
Herod of the hood, white as can be and black as can be
Not some dusty
Marble rocked Jerusalem page out of a dog eared, dog scrapped
Bubble-gum wrapper-Heston technicolor-Moses-bible thumping sarcophagus
Get out of that white chapel with its
Cell phone-collect the cash-love thy neighbor-if he's like you- crony catechism and venture out savior
Blood bullet and despair is there.
Or should we call your bluff?
Get out savior
Get inside them
Live inside them
Bleed and die with them
These are your children..
That suffer unto you but can't find you except from some
Sunday-lying meme moment hinting at
A paradise that disappears at the door to the cell
There is the blood..
Puddle of life lost and wasted
For a preacher's riff, fake hope and a
Measly buck
Jesus of the pretty
The ugly need you now
Need you again
This darkness is not pretty
It spreads and will not be cleansed
By platitudes and lacrimosas
Jesus with teeth
Come and bite this
Taste the bitter fruit that never ripened on your vine
Taste the vinegar pressed by the vintners of hate
In YOUR name! !
You picked them!
Its time
Dorothy was right
Its time
We must fight for love
With angry love
With angry hearts full
With you
Its time
With the muscle of the heart
With the iron compassion of Theresa and the dying
With a will to love that will spread
We must spread and smother the flames
Soak up the blood puddles
Honor the innocents
They are too many to count.
Start a new count
Start with 1 for
The 1st life saved
And don't stop counting until
There are none left to save and we can
All sleep