I don't know where this came from except from some tear in the fabric of the day.
The Last Night in Gomorrah, An Oral History
It was late when two men knocked at the door.
The master and the mistress sat up from their mats and listened.
Then, the master bade me get up and let them in.
He could see right away it was a mistake
to be so hospitable, but once they were in…
Wine and cakes, I brought them,
olives and bread. It was clear they were planning something.
One tore his crusts into tiny pieces.
The other’s eyes snuck glances at the corners of the room where all of you were sleeping.
Your father kept you all hidden at first, but coward that he was
he eventually roused your sister and my daughter from their rugs.
I’m telling you this so you’ll understand what happened.
So you’ll stop asking, Why did my mother look back?
So you stop sniveling about being abandoned by her for some pleasure she remembered
in the city that the Lord destroyed.
It wasn’t regret that turned her into salt.
Your father should have had enough for two of that.
It was because she heard their screams above the others,
“Father, help us!” For one unthought moment she imagined she would see him
turning back.
If you have to ask, ask a bigger question,
Why did Lot earn his salvation from the fires of Gomorrah
on his women’s backs?
Sunday, June 28, 2009
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