Archiv des Autors: Francis Kirps

Holy Stones

And then the day of the stoning arrives
Like any other day, a sunny sky
The same old blue, just like thousand years ago, in ancient deserts, ancient times,
when the white circle was drawn
around the sinner, the she-dog, the bitch
And the sun froze to stone,
exploding into millions of fists
raining down on holy land.

And then the congregation comes forth,
pack of dogs, solemn and cruel
standing like erections, all dressed in white
closing in around a hole in the ground,
awaiting the she-dog, the sinner, the fun,
collecting the stones, weighing them in dirty hands, leaving the big ones out,
so death won’t come too fast and spoil the holy pleasure. mehr lesen / lire plus