All the gods are dead and dying
They murder each other in
astounding spectacle
Collections of stone tools to silicon
tools
Array on mourning scenes
The shifting facts and fictions
Folklore don’t hold the sensible
Bushman writhe in pain
His skin burns with koalas
His legs scorch into bones of kangaroos
It doesn’t make any sense
The dead and dying
Puebloans
raise to dance
They thump their legs in great rhythm
of the lives
They invoke the gentle dead in
rain clouds
They rise through the trees
To keep the world safe.
