Thursday, 8 November 2018

do you not find

do you not find

the church bells are silent 

graffiti the dereliction’s blanket

detritus the ghost’s carpet

the harmonium teeth in grimace

shine under the roof’s tears

slate the hymn book’s only bookmark

soaked in spittle words

is this deconsecration 

then who decreed it done

if i fall on my knees

will they laugh and slam

the veneered one-hinged door

shall i stay or shall i go

or shall i vacillate for evermore 

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