Menu Switch

To All The Gods That Came After Us

By .chisaraokwu. From Issue No. 7

God has the whole world in His hands. He is too big to fail.



tossed into large barrels

our arms hold fast to a breathing darkness —

the future once carved into our bony cheeks fades.

our limbs shackled & packed tight, our eyes glimpse

the Sire of a rare February black moon:

this world is not our home.

the called of Abraham dig graves

& we jump in & consider it

less difficult to reckon with a velvet curse

than with the sunlight on our decaying bodies,

a stench in their God’s nostrils, a new world.

the wood & the vine charm us with

freedom: songs of rusted nails

& rugged crosses that split the earth

in two revealing pearls. where,

we ask, is our gift — this sun

that swallows and rebirths us

on the other side of paradise? we ask

too late. we ask in the space between

eternity & chaos. we will never ask

it of them again, our bodies suspended

in a salted water tomb. to their myths & rituals,

we give deference, though we believe we

will not die first nor forever. we were gods once.

now, we are strewn across their corn fields:

fertilizer & a caution. God alienated

from our weary tears. God alone —

carefree and ruinous — escaping the pale face of death.

About .chisaraokwu. More From Issue No. 7