Thus Saith The LORD.

Jerusalem broods on disaster days,

the wealthy duplicity that wafted once—

when so soon after her women would

fall into hostile hands, no helper striding forth.

The enemy watched, the enemy saw, her, the worthlessness of her sabbaths.

Jerusalem sinned hard,

hardening to a fine, firm fickleness.

Her devotees then howled over the bitch:

All and each had eyed her rut stains.

She, but, she, whimpering, she, sobs, turned upon herself, face to butt

Her filth on her feet

not at all able to recall, “after your fall . . ;”

ardently, laid, aside, askew,

no soft hand feathered on the nape.

LORD, look, my torment— the enemy aroused and robust.

THE ENEMY sent his hand

after all her desirables.

SHE saw the nations,

her shrine penetrated.

YOU had even declared it: even your assembly, they are not to even enter.

Her whole people moans, seeking bread

Trying to trade treasured trinkets, baubles 

for bites to chaff and kindle 

back a shallow breath.

LORD, chew on this, since I am not even a tasteless half-mouthful myself to satisfy you.

Hey! All you passing on to anywhere else,

take a long look, and blink at the obvious:

is there any where, any fair, any despair– like mine?

He has gathered grapes for the press– ME!

“Thus saith the LORD” in the raving day of his fury.

Lamentations 1:7-12 vlg/bti