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.