felt like a barbed-wire crown or a
sepulchre filled with rot and blood
like christ with her one good eye
shot out and the other fixed firmly on
the receding future
a joke, maybe, and all of us
the punchline
a painting in shades of entropy
boil the pigs in holy water until
the skin starts to peel off,
and is spoiled meat better than starving?
is your faith based on
magic and fairy tales?
i’m still waiting to
find one that isn’t
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