You who have worshipped  the cursing sun

You who have cracked the earth's side

Listen the negative joy of unreality

Listen the hollow labour of love

Listen Our cry:

       Day unbegotten, how was I born

        From a dying womb

       Cursed with a dead logic

        Spawned by the carnal pack

         In the long night

Children with outstretched hands and open mouths

Their bellies empty and raw, chewn and mauled

Children of Lazarus begotten

Twilight-

And from the empty Graves

Came fumes,

Dead air rising

To muffled drums

Hollow beats, silencing

The mute cries of unclean water,

Where The lepers bones float

In the shadows of light

In places now forgotten

Quenched of thirst

By the jackals light

The living dead

Rejoicing in the hungry world

Rejoicing to the songs of jackals

Cracking bones

In the dead land

The parched land

Empty bowels and

The hollow wind

A dry bone is a good feast

A dry stone to crack our jowls

A dead image to put our faith

We have chosen and must abide

Pray for the unsung dead

So that they may rejoice

And stir a dry bone

A dead eye and laugh at

The quickness of our laments

Console yourselves with these words

And believe in the wrath to come

absolve our sins

Be not unmindful who beg for redemption

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Joseph A Farina is a retired lawyer in Sarnia, Ontario, Canada. His  poems have appeared in Philedelphia Poets,Tower Poetry, The Windsor Review, and Tamaracks: Canadian Poetry for the 21st Century. He has two books of poetry published ,The Cancer Chronicles and The Ghosts of Water Street

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