Vi Ransel


The Last Supper - Poem by Vi Ransel

The Deluge
of 'democracy' rides
the tidal crest
of tragic death
in the desert ocean of blood that is Iraq.

Poor children,
Middle Eastern and Western,
mere ammunition,

the host of Unholy Communion
transubstantiated on the dais
of a macabre medieval banquet
where gluttonous ghouls
of the Oligarch feast
on endangered species basted
with petroleum sauvignon
in humanity's last oubliette
sauced with truffles of lust
for conspicuous consumption
and the cruel caviar
of pre-emptive destruction
of the natural gifts given
through the grace and creation of God.

Satan, salivating,
urges 'bon appetit'
'midst the inferno exploding
as he offers up servings
of pipeline flambe
in the seared, blackened
wellheads of Hell.

Listen to this poem:

Comments about The Last Supper by Vi Ransel

There is no comment submitted by members..

Rudyard Kipling

If



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?



Poem Submitted: Tuesday, October 14, 2008



[Report Error]