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The giants of the earth have forsaken God.
“Be on our side,” they cry to the wind. “Favor us.”
Heaven simply sends angels to bring forth the peace

to herald a Son.  But where is the Eucharist now,
Whose welcoming star warmed the heart like the glow of a
candle-flame?  The earth is hellish-black.  And thunder rolls.

The fiery cross singes still-living flesh.  Each soldier
has been squashed to the earth like grapes with
opulent juices soiling the sand.   Each heart is

squashed and squeezed, then trampled,
whether  a man, woman, or child.  Each heart is bleeding,
bursting like crushed berries.

The giants grin, sit on Cadillac fenders.
They smoke fat cigars or carry signs that sometimes


first Published in The Blueprint: An Assemblage of the Fifth Element