Commute

Obeisant supplicants wait incommunicado.
Latecomers hurry down the hallowed dais
To join the disciples waiting for a signal.
Ovine slaves pay respect to the new gods,
Exchanging coin for broad-sheet bibles
And accepting every word as gospel.

The minister comes and the pensive crowd
Enters the iron chapel in the hope of a seat.
Apocrypha flicker like badges of office around the few
Heretics who have joined the daily litany
To the Holy Places where the congregation worship
Eight hours a day.

The clunking chorus recedes behind the departing choir
As the priest tidies his theosophy; sale or return.
The caretaker exchanges the few wise words the day will hear
As anxious followers begin arriving for the next service,
Losing opportunities to capture moments of joy
Otherwise occluded by patriarchal hierology.

© March 1998. All Rights Reserved.