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The Demiurge, for Luis Suarez

Brian Kirk

Wednesday, July 16th, 2014

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 He came from the favelas,
the barrios, the shanty towns,
mouth dry and belly empty.
Made, not begotten,
fatherless, rudderless,
no soul to speak of,
no words to explain
the threat in his eyes.
Made in God’s image and likeness,
but ugly with it –
the kind of face
only a mother could love.
He had nothing
but hunger and love
for a game played
from sunrise to sundown
through the heat
of the day with scant
hope in his heart and
a small dusty world at his feet.

© Brian Kirk 16/7/2014

Notes

A poetic attempt to understand the inexplicable…

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/the-demiurge-for-luis-suarez/