Worship

 

Worship

 

This night is edgy with gilt

Rainstorm perplexed by the clouds over the city

We stay lit up like this 24-7

Seatbelt firmly fastened

Airbags on

The stars remain a silent protest

Like wallpaper we haven’t yet scraped down

Once re-designated as former guides

They lost their clout and so

Hera and Bast confine themselves to the kitchen

It’s much too easy to be delicate

To retreat to a masculine belief of the feminine

I serve up my beliefs as

If they might look better on porcelain

versus glass

But you haven’t any real right to oppose them

Or to demand a greater hierarchal system

I already am bound and bundled to my

One lighted candle on Sundays

My ten canted praise

Running silver incense

Smoldering within