Golden, and bovine shaped.
Where are the gods
who brought us out of Egypt;
where are the reassuring gods
who speak the words we anxiously crave?
Let us build an altar upon which our chosen
and carefully crafted god
can be enthroned in majesty.
And let us dance and sing
in frenzy and abandon
to the gods of gold and comfort;
the gods that promise
that our labour will be rewarded,
our bellies will be filled,
our borders protected,
our security guaranteed,
and that those less worthy will receive
only that to which they are entitled.
Golden, and bovine shaped.
These, these are the gods we adore,
before whom we will make the sacrifice
of our planet and our peace,
our compassion and our conscience;
and the future of our children.
Let us build an altar
.
.
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