Cathedral
Another doctor, this one
inviting
me to take a quick peek
inside, each slice
fine grained stew in a chipped
porcelain bowl,
glaze an abandoned web of
minute cracks,
walking us through the
empty cathedral,
trajectory of vaulted
arches hurled
high overhead into the
airless gloom,
accreting cushion of dust
shrouding rows
of barren pews, pausing for
a moment
to listen for the shallow rise
and fall
of the bellows, torrents
of wind howling
through rifled pipes last
time I was here, neatly
Plucked and pruned,
unceremoniously
excommunicated - blithe
agnostic
down on his knees after
all these years, head
bowed at the alter, a
congregation
of one fishing through
empty pockets, sound
of the coin shattering the
hushed silence.
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