Vacant And Cold! Poem by Eric Cockrell

are we then human?
what does that entail?
we light our cigarettes
off the heads of starving children,
drink wine made from
the blood of dead soldiers.

even our gods see through colored lenses!
afraid of the truth,
we chip away at the stone.
turning off our lights to undress.
perfumed by the scent of dead animals,
shamed by the stink of human need!

'Jesus died for our sins...'
we hold our sins close
as the price of oil!
eating multi-lingual tacos and rice,
we chase His brother across the border
on a migrant worker's pay!

may our food rot in our mouths!
our cars up on race divided blocks.
our daughters run with the wolves,
chasing the shadow of the refugee!
the kingdom of heaven uninhabited,
the house of prejudice, vacant and cold!