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Poetry

 

PRAYER MAN

See how the prayer man,
cassocked in hope,
cocks a blocked ear
to unoriginal sins:

‘Gift them to God’,
he drones ‘leave Him to cope!
Sin not again … too soon,’
he adds swiftly,

‘Not in this world,’ he moans,
rocking on bony joints
‘will you find joy.’

The dark confessional groans
under weight of repetition
ancient as church,
ancient as man.

 

 

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