This dance they do
several times
a week.
Muttering crass jokes
to each other
from behind their robes.
Rituals of
bread
wine
song
Rote memories.
Habits of the trade.
Salvation
to most,
just another job
to them.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
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2 comments:
I was cajoled into going to church last week.
Ooohhh...my favorite subject. I like the cynicism in the themes here. Your poem reminds me of when I was a devout church goer: I'd get emotionally overwhelmed by the ritual songs we sang. Times have changed.
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