Isaiah Furquan

They told him the earth was hungry for his flesh
Dipped in an ocean of soil, drowned with Atlantis
That the dust his god borrowed was overdue
and collecting interest, only interested in the bend
of the Bering Strait hidden in his spine
Tracing its way to the new world in his mind
They told him
the world wanted to swallow him whole for forgetting his ancestors’ prayers
For looking up to thank the sky for gifts that came from the ground
For becoming disgraceful, forgetting what comes from the well

They told his sons the planet wanted him back
as payment for lording over blocks
Back pocket banner bearers must all pay their debts
His sons worsened the appetite, the world’s
taste for mahogany men
Glazed treats in wooden boxes
Late to the dinner table
The planet does not want them boneless
Savors the crumble of pyramids in each crunch
Sips at the Nile in their blood

The earth moans a warning about ingredients dying faster than preparation
This is only the beginning
The main course is yet to come