The Holy Land Poem by Terry O'Leary

The Holy Land neath hammer blows -
is this what Jesus prophesied:
when sad-sack's hanged like mistletoes
the sightless see a suicide;
when thousands fall like dominoes
the blind deny it's homicide;
when women fry in thermal throes
the gents reject it's femicide
when rockets slaughter embryos
the fools forget it's feticide
when children die and decompose
the dullards doubt infanticide;
when bodies burn with afterglows
no one concedes it's genocide.
Whichever way the west wind blows
leaves morals dangling, crucified…