Grieving a New Epidemic

Holocaust of a Savage God
Betsy McKenzie Dec. 31, 2005

All those long-lost boys
Who wore their pain
Like trailing clouds
Tinged with blood.
They wandered off
And winked out
Like so many candles
In the first holocaust
Wave; sad little
Obituaries saying only
Closed casket.

Now the remnant
Feel safe, secure.
They have cocktails
to hold off the virus.
Now comes Tina:
Seductive high priestess
of the savage god.
He takes his next
Harvest
When they feel most
Safe.

Insidious, addictive,
Tina takes your
Mind, your money
Your teeth, your house
Your friends, your
Reputation, your job.
And finally, serves you up
To the savage god.

Cry for the waste of it.
We made the god.
We fashioned it from
hate and fear and beatings and law.
It would have no power without us.