Oxen skulls were bleached torrid-white.
Such a color we had never seen before.
We looked to the heavens for amnesty.
None was seen in the firmaments.
Then, we became rainmakers.
We whirled and twirled in our
pre-historic-like frenzy desparately
trying to create like our Maker.
When rain did come, it destroyed.
We watched emptied lives float by.
Then, we stopped chanting.
Cruel-black vultures perch atop
southern California houses...waiting.
Have we become mad or have we been sucked
into a new madness created by greed with
its hungry, grasping lips, teeth, and tongue?