god on its head

Tipped torved

concrete rock-hewn

head in sand

island-man erected

god in graven image in

hand-selected granite

encased perpendicular

eyeballs ogling horizon in

indifferent malediction

moulded of stone

with taunting stare-

the swaggering sneer

and stoicism dare-

We can turn the god on its head!

In a turmoil of one-thousand hands

a cacophony of

hard-charging fingernails

cracked to the quick

boot-bottoms, sinew

and walking sticks

fixed at the base

and the idol will tumble;

teeter reluctantly-

molasses on the soggy grass-

but undulate under

our weight en masse

together we make the tyrant humble-

We can turn the god on its head!

Cheer the convulsion

and the peal of pebbles

chipping in all directions

howl at the detonation-

an unruly hedonistic orgasm

of ascendancy-

a clamor of heights unheard

join with me-

bloody your fingertips

embark to heave-ho

cold stone will puncture,

bruise our skin below

but we will hoist

in heroic travail

new era of extrication

without fail-

We can turn the god on its head!

* * *

Dedicated to all revolutionaries, everywhere protesting his autocratic policies. This all started when I watched a documentary on the statues on Easter Island. One of the giant heads had been toppled at one time. It lay on the ground and didn't seem so miraculous in that position. The archaeologist on the program surmised that originally the great  heads were built as spiritual figures but eventually came to symbolize the power that the higher-status islanders held over the lower-ranked islanders. The wealthy built taller heads that grew more and more elongated-  very phallic in statement. The more I look at the situation in which our society has placed itself, the more I see gigantic heads erected with a "mine is-bigger" mentality.