WordsOut poems by
Herod's last request
When Herod came to dinner
we locked up the silver cutlery—
though king of God's own chosen nation
he had a certain reputation.
it didn't really do much harm,
just set off the odd car alarm
(and anyway they never use
wing-mirrors on BMWs).
his guards remained outside the door.
They said they didn't mind it snowing
and whiled away the time by throwing
javelins at next door's cat
We set an extra place or two
for the Ethiopian eunuchs who
he brought along to taste his food.
I said his timing's very good,
dropping by on Christmas Day—
we were entertaining anyway.
the cost of temple services,
the relative advantages
of burnt offerings over frankincense—
we seemed to have his confidence
and in a weak, unguarded minute
(just like me to drop us in it)
the subject of infanticide.
a twinkle came in Herod's eyes.
Well, then I must make it clear!
to fellows with a common sense.
Don't you think that we might be
in the same business, you and me?
I kill by violence, you neglect—
and here you've earned my deep respect
for I can only be selective:
your methods are much more effective.
Just let an open sewer stink,
give him no clean water to drink
or basic medical supplies
and see how quickly one child dies!
By careful acts of selfishness
you have created such a mess
you now eliminate about—"
(he took his calculator out)
"You can destroy whole continents
simply by indifference.
your actions are impressive too.
You take the mineral resource,
the inexpensive labour force,
most of the profits they can earn
and then you leave them in return
Coca-Cola and Big Mac,
debts they never can pay back,
spare change you feel good in giving,
cardboard packaging to live in.
sleep on the planet's streets somehow
apprenticed into useful trades
like prostitution, drugs and AIDS—
though I'm both cruel and sadistic
I can't compete with that statistic,
nor with the armaments I know
you've built to keep the status quo.
I just had swords and knives and spears
but after nineteen hundred years
you have such powerful weapons
their cost alone kills millions!
you can destroy it fifty times
and fight it on a dozen fronts
while you don't feed it even once.
That's big league stuff compared to me
who butchers a baby boy or three.
There's nothing more I need to do—
I'll leave my murdering to you.
A toast is called for now, I think.
This Christmas evening let us drink
to all the damage that's been done
by looking after Number One!"
He raised his glass up to his head—
the wine it held was rich and red—
and looking round from face to face
he said "But we should say a grace!
Give thanks to those in direst need
who starve so we can overfeed
and die to do us sinners good.
We eat their flesh and drink their blood.
Do this, as oft as you remember,
at least once every December."
Somehow I couldn't stomach mine,
yet though he smiled, his eyes were grim—
something clearly unsettled him.
and this was done under duress.
then put the Magi in the frame:
if I had not been so deceived
by those wise men, then I believe
much blood would never have been spilled.
I only needed one child killed.
stability in
whoever's emperor just now.
This story of a new-born king
could only be unsettling:
he was a danger, patently,
to national security
and threatened also therewithal
my throne, my life, my soul, my all.
So—proving that my word is good—
I went just as I said I would
to worship at his incarnation.
He had my total dedication.
until I found the baby Christ.
Though it took thirty years or so
my people got the brat at last
and strung him up and held him fast
and made quite sure that he was dead.
it happens time and time again
with lives for stables, hearts for mangers,
and so I cannot rest secure
until the child is found once more
That's why I’m here, and why I stay,
for now a billion times a day
somehow he manages to rise,
evil enough to hold him there.
is he not often murdered too?
to overcome this power of love?
I depend on you, you see.
Please, finish off this job for me.”
Written for the carol service at