Protestant

At the end of the fray with the top hogs
We sat on the tracks
drinking from the flask of the maters.
There were more than a few present and a spar between men and numen broke out
But we got an actual devil praying on the field on this day of rage.
He was incensed and purposeful
but all’s said on the run in the tonal paralysis of the dumb
A running bull circles a large jar for the corpse of the Christ
We must think besides and ignore a voice like an angel’s
In the current crisis bake no cakes or funeral meats
The mass pester and fuss at this foaming tide as it covers the path of the least condemned again
I shall stick out like an adored nun; as thick as a fried parrot’s egg on toast
We observe a a baptism of liars
But it’s all for a purpose
For on any day love may be born again.
And so pray all of us.
And all the others who don’t know as yet.

Published by Katherine