Hunting the Devil
Sometimes I look back
and I see the fleeing man
running his lungs out
barely cognizant of his climate
as if Lucifer was at his tail,
demanding payment wrought
of greed and humanity.
Sometimes, I see you in Imperial Rome
Alexandria and Constantinople
a Hyksos princess or a Byzantine harem-girl
who is not who she seems.
Everytime my feet step near
the dwelling place where
you have made holy
you vanish.
I see you in the shells
that bury my feet in My Lai,
the metal that sears my black buddy
into a pale ghost
and a Jell-O eternity of his mind.
You have been there
everytime those rockers saluted
your name
yet you did not care
for you had a grander design
And I saw your masterpiece
when the concrete fell like bullets
and fire consumed above itself
your cackling heard for eons
but as I stood there
mottled in the colours of
my earthly army
i swore that you
will
not
have
my soul
nor the one I have chased
for years.
She was killed
the day the Sun shone
on the fields of Auchswitz.
and little poppies grew
as rebels against your cause.