Back Row Pew (97)

Religious and historical pontification and such.

 

 

From my back row pew,

I peered out on the archaic stage.

Agony held my hand.

Roses withered on recycled altars.

 

 

Piety, their death.

God had no name

Until we spoke it aloud!

Alphabets birthed eternity.

 

 

Eternity called for war,

Holy lines drawn on kitchen tables.

Prophets rose and fell;

Mercury in a drugstore thermometer.

 

 

Old men bled words and worlds

From unseen wounds.

Monsters were conjured and fed,

Packs ravaged town center!

 

 

Tabloid pangs rang church bells!

Knees jerked viciously.

Sisters burned! Brothers fell!

My jaw stayed latched.

 

 

Agony held my hand.

Saints amuck! Sanctified Filth!

Frigid voices gusted through and through,

But never touched my back row pew.

 

 

Back Row Pew

Author's Note

Thanks for giving it a look. May your heads never spontaneously combust!