Dirt Worship
On the dirty-curved window’s other side,
I saw a crawl into oblivion.
A bareback mendicant in five-o-ones
down among the restless exhaust collect;
and, a steel congregation droning past—
a liturgy that set heaven on fire.
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You’re currently reading “Dirt Worship,” an entry on This is why I fled, earlier, on the open sea.
- Published:
- January 30, 2012 / 12:02am01
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