No More Gods!

in ancient epochs
Almost none wanted to know;
it was Herculean enough to daily sculpt eden
out of Snarling, swirling chaos:
the taut bow string
the lonely, Shadowed quest for roots and aloe
the smell of mule sweat under menacing heat
the good fever of happy birth

They did the job:
the commanding rattle of the shaman's throat
volcanic warrior kings
angelic births
perfect men of learning
the sparkling diamond gates of paradise

But in 2006!
now,
when so many good peoples are chained to grating machines,
when hospitals are full of the horridly sustained,
when the ocean of American bison has been parched dry with gatling guns,
when countless beautiful youths are weekly sacrificed to pop Idols,
when the woods of ideas are full of bejeweled robbers:

Now! the good word is that there are No gods,
that every human empire pays tribute to CHAOS,
that brave men need not slave for bread but may dip it free in primal soup,
that awesome mysteries ride on every wind
and shine from every star...
to the bare dancing feet
of those with open hearts and minds.