# 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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