The Terracotta Girls Poem by James Fitzpatrick

Butchered, in the modern Kiln of the obsequious,
Infected, by the septic words
Of a feral Baachus,
Laying, tongue tied by the Ghosts
Of the All quietened,
Damned, by brotherly Disputation.

Their sadness shimmers in ‘Ciceric' ripples,
Slain by the hair of horse,
Pommelled by the Rustic Marionette,
They lay Silently Screaming, unheard
Amid the Vapours, of pungent still air….

It ends, outside the Maternal Asclepeion,
Cut by the sharpened lips of Orphic Adsentatores,
Broken by the beating heart of Humos,
They are Drown, beneath waves of Nobian tears,
Holding the hand of Isis