H.G.A. Hughes
Tony’s Eyes
(los ojos de San Antonio)
I want to be kind to this delectable man.
So very, very kind.
No, not just kind!
I want to love him, to worship him.
I want to prostrate myself before him
and kiss his sweet feet.
I want to adore this new Mahatma,
this revered, risen Messiah.
His blessed hands raised in supplication,
in benediction and absolution.
Imploring, beseeching eyes.
Gentle voice throbbing, ecstatic with sincerity,
pausing pregnantly, piously,
long .... long ....
longing that we should understand His gospel,
embrace His cause, believe His good news.
The good news, vouchsafed to all humankind,
that, despite Old Europe’s Gallic heretic,
Teuton recusant, and Polsky pontiff,
we may now grasp the revealed truth
that the umpteenth, Ultimate Crusade is proclaimed,
to assail and tame the axised bastions of evil,
to make the New World Order safe
for its proud suzerains, die neuen Ubermenschen,
the anointed heirs
of Torquemada’s Santo Oficio,
of Manifest Destiny,
of Custer and Billy the Kid,
of John D.R.,
of San Juan Hill, Nicaragua, and Guantanamo,
and of that faded, rose-hued Raj
of never-setting sun and never-rising wages.
(Lord Linlithgow, zindabad!
His eyes are on me,
imploring, beseeching.
I would lay down my life for Him.
I would pledge my kids, my grandkids
to His sacred, hallowed cause.
I would! I would! I would!
Wouldn’t I?
So very, very kind.
No, not just kind!
I want to love him, to worship him.
I want to prostrate myself before him
and kiss his sweet feet.
I want to adore this new Mahatma,
this revered, risen Messiah.
His blessed hands raised in supplication,
in benediction and absolution.
Imploring, beseeching eyes.
Gentle voice throbbing, ecstatic with sincerity,
pausing pregnantly, piously,
long .... long ....
longing that we should understand His gospel,
embrace His cause, believe His good news.
The good news, vouchsafed to all humankind,
that, despite Old Europe’s Gallic heretic,
Teuton recusant, and Polsky pontiff,
we may now grasp the revealed truth
that the umpteenth, Ultimate Crusade is proclaimed,
to assail and tame the axised bastions of evil,
to make the New World Order safe
for its proud suzerains, die neuen Ubermenschen,
the anointed heirs
of Torquemada’s Santo Oficio,
of Manifest Destiny,
of Custer and Billy the Kid,
of John D.R.,
of San Juan Hill, Nicaragua, and Guantanamo,
and of that faded, rose-hued Raj
of never-setting sun and never-rising wages.
(Lord Linlithgow, zindabad!
His eyes are on me,
imploring, beseeching.
I would lay down my life for Him.
I would pledge my kids, my grandkids
to His sacred, hallowed cause.
I would! I would! I would!
Wouldn’t I?
Page(s) 26-27
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