Miserly minor minimalists having no words but riddles or
messianic sighs, see the tower's fallen.
Babel disintegrates, Olympus has crumbled
gods tumble riding the ruins like surfers
fracturing columns crash, bright Apollo's temple slides.
seers have lost their sight, their voices a diminuendo.
oracles gleaned, grain spilling from sacks,
gold and sliver stripped, holy profaned,
blood seeps from the sacrifice spatchcocked.
when I ate the apple I was sixteen
it was so sweet but the memory's bitter
awakenings can change everything.
the priest told me to ask forgiveness
as he touched me calling me seducer.
candles drip tears amongst the psalmists
plain singing, Latin refrains repeated.
harps are not gold but tarnished joy
bitter aloes bear no fruit they say
Death knows we all end up in the same place,
coming for us at our allotted time.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem