they are guerillas and they frighten me
ashtray heart and soul
with a black book and a rosary
silver particles of sin
sermonising in singles and in pairs
hawking stale air for breath
they wrap my faith in a dry leaf
then they seek to conspire
they congreate in the town squares
semaphor signals to the deaf
so who are they to preach to me
with a bucket full of scorn
foresaking all to rescue me
from my demon curled within
in a payment for all the libels
and all the blood you have spilt
with the son of the son of the man
and the god they so desire
this god
which god?
witch god.
whose god?
words meant to enlighten me
double spun with rigmarole
the dead and the living
and the dreaming still unborn
take your false god and your idols
as a currency of guilt
