Greeks and other Baal-cans

by H F Jansen Estrup   Tantalus hatched his vengeful plot And the other gods leapt back in horror - For Tiwz recalled his father’s glut, Foreswore his sons would rue that gore. But Tantalus hated Tiwz a lot, More than he loved his son - So he cooked the boy up in a pot And fed him at dinner to the holy ones They sniffed the scheme out ‘fore they ate, Queen Hera laughed - she knew that breed - But Tiwz decreed a thund’rin’ fate For Tantalus and all his seed. So all we humans, forever, ever Are proscribed from learning how we taste. Small wonder that we kill so clever, And let the game meat rot and waste! The Curse of Zeus is hard to bear, He slew his own dad, vile old Kronus, Then raped his sisters, smiled and dared Someone to say No, no, not us!         He condemned his children to murder and war Then changed his name to Ares and Thor, ‘Though sometimes he liked to be Taurus, And called it all war and love - and fair -                 Thus on us all lies an odious onus,         To decide whether gods really own us         And whether or not we still care. The gods we now worship, one holy Tri-Baalis Has decreed the essential same things, That kills in His Name are not serious sins, Just so we’re crass killers, not cannibals ...