Literary Yard

Search for meaning

To that farmer cursing god because your prayers for rain went unanswered

By: MK Kuol

imagine yourself god:
a fiery-eyed wool-haired patriarch
garbed in a gold-sashed light
sitting on a sapphire-washed throne
eyes stretched taut over this universe
stretching beyond the grasp of mortal
imagination seven scarlet stars blaring songs
in your hands a double-edged sword
dangling low out of your lavendered mouth
like a scrotum on a warm summer day

imagine about your throne
a full moon of white-robed gold-crowned
elders on their little thrones golden
bowls humming bright incense before
their feet & four-faced four-winged
angels, skins sparkling like burnished bronze
bodies struck stiff in a rigid rhythm like
heartbeats eyes stuck ice-white voices
thunder-fierce as they croon:
holy, holy, holy, holy, holy, holy…

imagine jesus your personal assistant
now burnt out after hours
running on cheap caffeine & imposed
discipline hunched over a laptop sifting
through millions of emails of supplications
each uniquely earnest happens upon yours
& as he is about to grant you your wish
a notification pops up on the status bar: the hawker
across your street prays for a clear weather!

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MK Kuol is a self-taught poet from South Sudan whose work has appeared on The Selkie Publications, ANMLY, Beach Chair Press, Konya Shamsrumi, Kalahari Review, D’lit Review and elsewhere. 

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