Tuesday, March 14, 2017

9281. OUR LADY OF TROYES

OUR LADY OF TROYES
You may blanket the cold with your
stiff arm, and light all the candles
you wish, but there's nothing that's
quite so good as just praying to
outdated saints. 
-
One comes down the steps, each 
night, almost, at the center-stage 
loft of one Harry Weems. Not the
Parson you may be thinking of,
this is just Harry. He runs the 
small theater which fronts there.
-
Harry loves the very old plays  -  
all those contorted and monstrous 
morality things, up along the 
wooden platform, with hand-held 
lights by a stage guy or two. 
-
All these archaic saints and holy
people of the sort my mother would
have liked : can't do anything wrong,
already have halos as young kids;
they probably spoke in tongues
from the day they were born.
-
Holy angels who get drunk on
water, knowing it already is
a probable wine.



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