The cold hard hearts of gods

despise

the lickspittle loyalty of dogs

Incense and candles

infuriate

appetites weaned on burning bones

Libations and tithes

purchase

only a smirk at the stingy waste

The gods lean down, though,

whispering

in our ears

feeding

on our devotion

We were divine, once,

giving

them names

stirring

them into life