Where the Sirens Wail

The End Times, we feel, have somehow

caught us by surprise

I’m telling you: it is going to be weird

from here

on out

As the sun burns hotter

-- -and both flames and tidewaters rise-- -

they are going to build their crucifixes

ever bigger, bolder, and higher

and demand for them

growing reverence

and acquiescence

Likewise, from the mosques and temples

the fangs of diatribe

will drip yet more ludicrous

concoctions of intellectual poison

Why, even the Buddha

-- -with his snarky, laconic smile-- -

will sit with a loaded rifle resting

on his crossed, cramped legs

This…is the future

And it has always been the future

This is how we reconcile ourselves

to our self-imposed his fate:

setting sails, as it were, for Troy

then steering the ship toward the rocks

where the sirens wail