Tuesday, June 9, 2015

We Christians

Since Constantine
We've been as sweet
As Jesus, killing
With the passion of pagans.
At some point in the life
Of an alcoholic,
A choice has to be made:
Your story, or your life. 
Words go on
As smoothly as the plaster
Plasterers use
To fill the cracks
Or the artisan uses
To shape the acts
Of a Saint
On the fa├žade of a church
Built to repel an attack.
The heart is
Like a monk
Buried in the library
Looking for proof
He doesn’t need any.

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