And so they gathered, threatening
to hasten ‘the kingdom’ and
to ‘discern’ god knows what.
And so they watched lots of TV
and politely endured
a repetitious sales pitch no one was
buying the first time. One or two braved
another word above the background
noise of marking small circles on
small bits of coloured paper.
And the wine had long run out
and the TV channel was stuck, and
amid brief fireworks in the fog
a choir hinted that it all
might be otherwise, and the strange
god who might know what, and which
wandered lost-like into the gathering, now
wandered hastily out past the loos into the night.
Jason Goroncy, 30 May 2015
Not bad, Jason.
Not bad.
Richard
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I like the poem Jason. Spelling alert on repetitious.
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