all of these men
in my lifetime
who have claimed to be christ

all of these
nameless children nailed
to crosses

is it enough to write
poems about the failure of religion
beneath the grey light
of a dying sun?

listen

i don't believe in war
but cannot escape it

i love my son but
treat him poorly

put closed doors between us
and refuse to acknowledge
my wife's tears and
the truth is that no atrocity
remains sacred forever

no memory stays pure in
the face
of all our brutality

there are
any number of reasons
to fear growing old