Whisperers Poem by Phillip Erb

Train your eyes to see through the midnight darkness and above
the miasma of fatigue, choose carefully which scenes of sleep’s cinema to believe,
because the God of the New Age doesn’t reach out through prophecy
it is more likely the voices that speak through the passing dream
see humanity only for the bone and meat, their devotion is act of
sanctimony, they sit down with one arm around justice and spit in
the face of truth every time during the commercials
new clothes, gold, and something flashy to enervate on rock and road
pecksniffery doesn’t advocate a new morality
so listen carefully and be wary
of the fruit these days
when God no longer speaks.