Ted Jauw, American Poet and Activist

And what shall He say?As you limp nigh into the nacred gates 

Your naked blackness, an Ace from the Hole

Still holding the shovel spade of the Hell you dug to spite the Fates

And having reached the bottom only to discover

That Innana, Euridice, Persephone, Demeter and a host of other Mothers who already dug the holey Hell descending Well well before you, digging hole with hands and nails and shovels none

And now you plead to their common Son

Before gates of pearls with tales imagined on Terra whose fecundity you confuse for filth

The dirt just your time on terroire where you taste your own terror and still you plot your defense 

Bringing arguments intense and angry of hard times held and cheap beauty spent on wicked soot of candle spent at both ends and mute

Pleading a point so moot

So beyond refute

That your very presence is prima facia proof of His innocence

And the hard smooth mahogany handle of your shovel crook cane spear cross bears the hard worn hand rubbed finish and fingerprints of only one…