Neanderthal Messiah — 18
‘Shlomo, Iesu’, Maryam,
The Mother said.
‘Your wound is not yet healed.’
She inspects his scab-matted,
Curling black hair scalp -
‘Pray you make your Bar Mitzvah!’
‘I release you of your promise
Of no more Silk Road.’
His sister floated out the window, giggling
Like the Ruah.
[The sound of metal could be heard.]