We tumble backward. Now we're in
The thirteenth century, and clerics,
Is that who they are, or office-holding
Opportunists?, torture doctors, pregnant
Women, anyone who seems to have
Endorsed the Devil's twisted views.
There can be but one truth, and their
Vindictive God has, they believe,
Made its components evident: all
Men shall rule over women; whites
Are His most favored race, and those
Who love in ways which deviate from
Man and female slave are to be ushered
Into Hell. The Inquisition reappears,
While seven hundred years of progress
Wither. We endure a plague, another
One, which we had hoped might slow
Our movement into darkness, but it
Hasn't helped. The grim Inquisitors
Demand that we submit to their procedures.
One is to not mask one's face, nor can one say
That those afflicted ought to be in quarantine.
We all should suffer equally. That's their
God-awful god's directive. Thus, we spiril
Hopelessly into disease and degradation,
One more apex culture undermined
And pushed aside.
Poetry by Lawrence Beck
Read 37 times
Written on 2022-07-15 at 10:36
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