*...perhaps we make a mistake if we take the definitions of who we are, legally, to be adequate descriptions of what we are about.  Although this language may well establish our legitimacy within a legal framework ensconced in liberal versions of human ontology, it does not do justice to passion and grief and rage, all of which tears us from ourselves, bind us to others, transport us, undo us, implicate us in lives that are not our own, irreversibly, if not fatally.

-Judith Butler

our house is on fire.

  can't you smell the smoke?

  toxins are blazing

 poisoning the sky.

gawkers stare at each 

other guessing at what's

 beyond the flames.

  curiosity turns judgmental

 as they press to see

 puss oozing from beneath the doors

 a fragrance mixed with dust.

  alleluias lay silent in the gray

 awaiting the brigade

 to douse the raging flames.

   whatever rises sounds of doom

 mournful as voices wail

  for respite from the torrential fall

 of curses lifted to the sky.

  where oh where are the savior-gods

 who led us to this apocalyptic now?

  if only they'd open the gates

 trying to flee their gilded cage

 and set us free from the promises made

 yes set us free from the tomb they've built.