Missouri's Travail

   
   Missouri's Travail
   Midwestern agony, three times told
   Tolling again, and again, and again;
   Said one surviving son repeatedly--
   “My Father, Father, why?”



 Against the suffering onslaught,
 And the priestly ‘preying’
 According to brazen ministers,
The brass knuckles slam,

Supposedly a gangster god’s attack;
Lacerated and lambasted humans
Shaking from wrathful damnations,
Condemned before birth,
Our travail

Ravaged by Calvin’s sovereign despot
Slaughtered in another mighty wind*--
That savages across the land, rampaging
So many perishing in the world,

So not loved,
Sworn global news gone timelessly old,
Voltaire’s Lisbon, so many descendants
‘Jobbed’ in a cosmic trial again.

Selah.

"This is a miracle," after the torrential wind,
Intoned one smiling survivor,
Not the tornado slashing through nor his quivering
After the homicidal/cruel attack, not nature’s debacle
Nor the historical, but rather the wonder

When his little sister, a virgin was delivered
From the wombed ruins of a minster’s deceitful home,
One among countless hundreds of thousands injured;
Our travail

Not seven days later, nor those triple sixes!
Beware that horror ended sign of last things--
No, that's another god-appointed disaster;
Now only a quarter to a third-million dead
Including a few ravaging leaders,
Stained ones of sacred public cloth;

In these endless natural disasters,
So many sons and daughters who do not rise;
To quote the 'veined' Preacher, "Mere breath,"
So billioned the god-hysterical, historic body count;
Our travail

For now torn-asunder violent winds flail
These many more abject supplicants,
Lamenting/lamentable  ‘patients’ of Job;

But contrary to insolent religious doctrine,
Which lays all evil at the foot of God's throne,
One son of man wept, endlessly for all,
In excruciating travail,
Crucified weeping.

Selah



*Job 1:19 and world news

Previously published in
different form in
hotmetalpress.net

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