When the crucifix begot a rock song ballyhooed
by infidelities, I submitted an essay to the Pope.
Non-bishops said I was being pedantic, romantic,
silly and hoarse, could I be quiet for new Rome,
not be a tad high for the cloistered crud of Zion?
So, seeing the civilized baptized Noah, classified
mystics into factional disputes, indeed I vowed to
cease avowing pediatric cases in messianic rivers,
promised to promote perceived whorish heresies,
blasphemies at the creek of highways and byways.
When the hologram of Goliath jazzed up a raucous
crowd biased against dwarves & ophthalmologically-
challenged wooden sandal-wearing giants, I sensed
defamation by a nation of faults, gallets, molten-lava
white hearts heated by self-preservation and pride,
snaking toward self-promotion, gliding willy-nilly
into power, to thus be declared brand-new towering
kings of an old Babylon with curmudgeons for pink
infants, lions for gendarmes, w/ hooligans, braggarts,
and card-lovers perfumed to their fangs. So, e’en when
an hour begot a son who declared himself liberator
of mobs of sophisticates at any given Sunday, I still
vowed to not allow crozier crows into my cocoa-
laden house, promised my children this heathen
won’t pay up, blooden their soup, melt trumpets,
goblets, raise crosses’ ramparts, shepherds’ crooks.
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