BRING THE POPE
TO ME BY TUESDAY
It isn't an egregious harm, this web-craft lounging
that we do; inexperience, amidst those whom I admired.
Wantonness, together, brought us both to this sepulchre
- where now the geese fly by, along, and high overhead.
Atop the clouds, the sky. Atop the sky, the Monday moon.
-
I'd always wanted such meritorious service; alike to
myself and those around me. We swilled the beer in
the open field, wrote stories of each other in
darkened classrooms, and practiced at the target
with our lethal bows and arrows. Yet, somehow,
still alive, we stand to thrive. Will not leave.
Demand an impression, a visit, a blessing.
-
Let Him come then; nothing like that matters.
Bless the baloney sandwiches, and bless again
the sacred water. The Red Sea parts at noon.
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