Judas still hangs, neck at prophesied
angles, toes limp with frozen blood, eyes
watching. He’s seen horrors in castles
that drove him blind with mad agony.
Humanity scares him like a bride:
white-faced under his noose, he descries
hidden tombs with doorways like assholes;
lumps of stone, toe-kissed by ebony
gods; wolfish judges with white teeth who
lash thieves and beggars to crass pillars
and whip them with spiked lizard tails. To
them Christ would not be worth the silver.
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