LIKE THE BEASTS THAT PERISH

You grow fat and rich

and boast 

with no understanding

and never again

will light 

lick at 

your 

veins.

I could have spent

oodles

and

oodles

of time 

flicking bits

of this truth

into a coveted pile,

moving towards

it in the evening

to console

my 

sad 

heart.

But now

all I see

is your doomed wreckage,

a house with no legs,

a mouth with no substance,

a heart for no God,

And all I can muster are 

prayers about you

and the hoard you have 

gathered that will one day

be taken

from two 

unwilling

hands.