We pray with our eyes to the east, longing
To catch a small glint foretelling
Your second, final arrival – the lightning
Flash of Your Divinity across the sky.
The poison of human sin grows more deadly
As the hours of our days accumulate:
The clergy connive with the wolves to devour
The sheep; the governors do not hide their
Contempt for one another; those ruled are
Mostly full of bile. The few able
To collaborate constructively
Hasten the digital singularity –
The cosmos regurgitated from the stinking
Bowels of man, . . .
The rest is at https://www.newenglishreview.org/custpage.cfm?frm=190987&sec_id=190987.
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Holy Ælfred the Great, King of England, South Patron, pray for us sinners at the Souð, unworthy though we are!
Anathema to the Union!
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