They

They wait,

they listen

with hate,

they study you

when your not looking,

they say

to themselves

as they grow hungry

in desperation

for the light

for love

for knowledge,

that they will

get you when

you are sleeping,

they will ill you

with an illusive pill,

until you sink

into unawares,

then they will

kill you,

they will bash you

a brutal long beating,

until your brains

and Christ comes

gushing out,

they will feast

on your mind,

first the right hemisphere

then the left,

they will beast

on your peace,

and eat

your liver alive.

They will endow the joy

and suck clean the sun

that shines hope,

and put the remaining

in a doggie bag.

They will drink

the forgiven blood,

unforgivable.

They will digest

it all

and move on

to their jobs

their homes

their families

their fetishes

their unresolved

lives

they will move on

and everything

will be a pastime.

They will go

back to their normality

ways of living,

cheating taxes

ignoring their children,

spouses in closets,

they will go back

to history

and wonder where

and why the just

has gone.

They will go back

to their murdering

ways and wars,

their promises

they request

in the shade of

desperation.

They will yield

in marriage

and exit in death.

All the while

thinking

in the dark back

of their skulls,

they have done

a service unto

their god,

in stamping out

the strong.

And pretending

to be something

they’re not,

hiding jealously

in beauty

and rage in hate,

for this is

what makes them

feel human.

Anthony Liccione is from North Richland Hills,  Texas.
You can e-mail him at

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Last update : 05-12-2007 05:36

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