The Room Was Full of Christians.

The room was full of Christians

Colliding in grace

I said ‘at least you do it for the love of it’

And in the way that it does

Their hair matted, lips pouted, middle-lives

Slightly higher black population

Because it’s good and proper

To ignore your tumours.

 

What is time if not for wasting?

And what are words if not for creating?

Such faith is like a fingernail

Just attached to the skin

Matter, benign, growing on the spinal cord

When you go to bed tonight

Close the curtain full

To cancel the divine light.

 

There’ll be one less Christian in the room

Upon waking up.

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