Worldwide, Christians are lined up
waving palm fronds and leaves
fanning their need for communion
Holy people require patches
to the doctrine so porous
as to tax the poorest latches
to oil the hinges of portals
to the afterlife to be led to
after they live lives as mortals
Any religion in need of investment
that cannot stand alone on merit
afraid to be naked, without vestments
uses Palms to hide the member of David
lost in a chorus of Hymns
lost in a forest of Psalms
lost in tithes of Alms
hide their children's eyes
from what they don't want to see
from what they don't want to be
the selective memory and shared mystery
Crusading against the truth
the power wielded by Church history
invisible forces that wind the hands of time
wield eternity against the aging disciples
who hem, haw, and pray to different versions
subverting the unified notions of the Church
my hands are clean of dust to dust
my head clear of ashes to ashes
of offerings, sacrifices, and devices.
my temples are another story.
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