James Cavanagh

Post Mortem
(a brief review)

After the death of a dream,
after the shadow coup
there fell upon us
unbridled demons,
despots and bribery,
cowardly thieves in the night.

After the clever attack
there came among us
the slick tongue,
the pox manufacture,
silk strings of control,
the hidden hand.

After the oath was taken
there walked among us
clones of Judas
with the halter slipped,
a wasting
(the battle not joined,
the enemy in secrecy)
like autumn rain.
There stood before us
a prison made of earwax
and angels packing it in.

James Cavanagh