Remote
We looked in the remote chapels
and through pine needles sieving sunlight
explored the statue’s smooth body
and the rained spider web
we searched in the sigh of rose petals
in starbursts and worm-eaten pages
penned by hallucinating prophets
we hunted in decapitated houses
but we didn’t find God anywhere
and we didn’t discover him in the statue
or touch him in spider webs
recluse talked of God being Dead
and the people danced in the plaza
knowing the recluse’s verdict
Mayanaam
vequinox
Manolis 