A Mayan Christmas
by Rip Bulkeley
Fuck Easter, with just two pathetic deaths
while the third one's Dad fixes an escape.
We haven't really done the hecatomb thing
since Nagasaki. Meanwhile the well-fed gods
of Mesopotamia and Cambodia have been
sneering at us. All right – Vietnam, Iraq,
Afghanistan and that piddling Belgrano,
but the truest slaughter should be crammed
into a handful of days, and the very best
played out at home like Aberfan or austerity.
Too bad, that with COVID roaring ahead
we will never be certain just which were
the sacred Christmas deaths. But the good news
is that instead of a few score jargon soldiers
or priests with their high-tech obsidian knives
we can do this one ourselves with a kiss.
They got that part right, in Gethsemane.