# Dust—All’s Yellow
Such justice, and its judge, do I indict:
Omnipotent, inscrutable, and far
From reason to or reason not to smite
The flesh in which we live or which we are.1
My flesh, a charnel feast where flies may spawn,
Precedes me into death. I sit in dust,
Ooze life, and with a greasy ostracon2
Scrape from my wounds repugnant honey crust.3
O flesh so fair, so faithless to your form,
So foul and fetid now, a wounded field,
Repulsive to all life except the worm!
And what avail my prayers? He is concealed.4
No answer comes whence imprecations reach.
The barren walls reverberate a screech.
# Footnotes
1: Job questions whether there is more to man than his body.
2: See Job 2:8. An ostracon is synonymous with a potsherd. Ostraca were used in Greek society as a tool for ostracizing members from society.
3: Many skin diseases, and impetigo in particular, are characterized by honey-colored scabs fromed from dried serum.
4: See Job 3:22. See also "Eclipse of God," by Martin Buber.
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