The Prophet Poem by Jacquelyn Turnage

You were Mr. How-Do-You-Do
And Mr. Holier-Than-Thou
All and none of these personalities conjunct
You worked inevitably, beautifully against me
Methodically, systematically
Dismantling my reality
Gifting me delusion and bitterness
Consuming what little dignity I had left
And Holding the dinner bell over my head
Saying “Come Get Some Whilst It’s Still Hot! ”
You served spoiled food to the needy
And broke bread like the Christ-child
A nauseating version of a sacrificial lamb
Clutching your cross like a sword
And your ignorance like a shield.
You were Mr. Magician and
Mr. Right Here, Right Now
A demagogue to the blinded masses
They, your undiscerning disciples
Me, trying to catch your slight-of-hand
They never knowing why, or caring
You grooming them, Harking
“Watch As Five Loaves Become Many! ”
Laboring, window-dressing,
Applauding your illusion
And allowing them to gobble up rotten meals
Like they were grateful to be taking part
Of the spectacle
Time
And time
And time
Again.