The Anarchist Sermon

I like the silent church before the service begins, better than any preaching.

- Emerson

                    ~*~

What fruit is left on Sunday morning?
Days have passed since the last idea
to hear the pitch of life saw light.
The children pawn their sinew off
on unexamined vessels.

We gather up our thirsty voices
and watch as they are driven off
into the moorings of our hovel.
If I would teach them nothing more;
“savor this, these delicate miles”

until we sit along the pews
and stare into the quietus.