Spirit Circle

Elegy for a Dead God

My God died yesterday.
Outside my windows rat claws
scrabble waltzes on the sidewalks.
My God of the golden smile
died in an alley last night
among the orange peels
and scraps of Styrofoam cups.
Under the neon stars
knives flashed and fell and rose
to slash at him again,
again, 'til he fell and died
in a huddled heap by the gutter.
His laughter is lost on the wind
prowling the hidden alleys.
His unseeing eyes are staring
at an empty sliver of sky.
Overnight, I've grown old.
I stumble.  My feet make echoes
in the hollow chambers of our house.
Outside the devils chatter
like copulating squirrels.
I'm too feeble to silence the devils.

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Updated last on:  2001/05/22