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We aborted the Christ a long time ago
What with the successive thousands of gentle fetuses strangled.
Stop stop! Why lament? Let not the wind be rankled
By thy silly bleats and unbaked ego.

Thee killed the Christ
Thee impeded his coming.
Thee cruel beast flaked with lies
O thee daughters of Jezebel’s sinning!

Thee killed him, that young Christ in thy womb
That lamb sent down to our sins loom. 

What did so meek a lamb do to thee, predators?
What vice did he depict, O executors?
There, thee shake those cursed heads of thine.
That lamb committed none, but thee went for its throat.

When thee felt it kick in glee in thee
Thee hastened in terror for that mountain yonder
Where thee crucified him still like done on Golgotha,
Fronted by those lascivious Romans in their creel.

Those Romans were of a less cruel breed
For I watched thee in triple trepidation murder the Christ.
I peeped as thy hands pulled it forth from its manger
While that stiletto went cutting and shredding and  beheading its soft cord.

I watched thee squash its throat:
A young lamb that has neither learned to kick nor croak
Nor mastered the humanness of weeping.
I watched thee young Jezebel, thee came stabbing. And stabbing. And cursing.

I watched thee as the sun set in the East
While darkness fell speedily from the mist
as the sun hid its head in fatal shame,
While thee with the stealth of Lucifer 
Cast that messenger from the heavens two feet below
And again cursed it to the bowels of hell.

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