Back Pew @ Rudderless Mariner

 here

 

Back Pew

 

Everything I say now is true

I sit in the front or back pew

among heavy smokers with their beer carts.

my feet hurt, but it happened as they said,

the back of the hair parted

in the forgiveness of sins.

Locks of color flowed over

large people with headaches

of Hopkins so to speak.

 

Passion stands up thanking,

its name well known.

Trees grow in the window

of Silence. I came to sing,

but not my name.

 

There will be light

There will be light

Collections are quiet.

 

 Nobody wears a coat.

At the back smokers

With nosebleeds hold hands.