Discussed

Up there

Depend on reason as our guide to shake the misty fog
their corporate body brings too bear, their eye within the log
a fact or two will helpful prove in questioning their god
who Harmon cast the women to, he'll prove to be most odd
deeply inhaled the fat that burned on altars by Magog
loved nostrils filled with witches burning brightly on a log
fat minions stole from orphans so to plate his house with gold
war, bribes and kickbacks make the greatest story ever told

there are five thousand years gone by and yet two thousand more
the ancient god got eye for eye without a settled score
the sanctimonious prayers flew up, he sucked them one by one
they whet his appetite for blood, he throws them to his sun
his children turn from skin to bone to dusk Gehenna's floor
with claws he grasps A bad 'un threw him out Heaven's iron door
time knows no fiercer deity, iron fist will, Heaven's run.

Down here

Down here, he'd have been likely to choose
1939 Berlin for his retirement,
where people worshipped only the gods of slaughter:
Death god, terror god, destroying god, night god.
He couldn't ask for a people more in continence
from disgust, fit to carry out his best work
the five years of destruction.

Afterward he'll rove the lands
serving Ireland, to inspire a bomber
not missing a chance to sell his way on weekends
to a terrorist here, or a dictator there.
Here comes Carlos, fresh from Venezuela
there's Idi. Good for them
They're not put off by the smell of the abattoir
or by the blood left on the killer's boots,
enough blood a groan man died in, or the whole earth.

While they fly to pieces,
he piles his books onto his truck,
smiling to himself at how appealingly now
it takes so very little work
to carry out his plan.