A Host in Heresy
In a tight pink skullcap
And abrasive bandages
Play the soulful doormat
And get used like ambergris
In time the senses sing
Out of step with beaten breast
Do you do the Christian thing
Or do you fund PBS?
Each dawn is there to
Utilize or squander
No compass tells you
Which way you should wander
Why step in six-eight time?
‘Cause the cadence is still strict
Reason may follow rhyme
Down the highway through the thicket.
There's smoke and there's flames and so forth
Our embers are fluorescent, of course
If truth's found a host in heresy
Has lying become a ministry
And the way to feel free?
The bleating never seems
To be swept away like clouds
What one proverb redeems
One stray syllable enshrouds.
Never bowing to the corn
Or the way the pine cones shake
You weren't there when you were born
And you won't be when I wake.
© 1996 John Brocato
And abrasive bandages
Play the soulful doormat
And get used like ambergris
In time the senses sing
Out of step with beaten breast
Do you do the Christian thing
Or do you fund PBS?
Each dawn is there to
Utilize or squander
No compass tells you
Which way you should wander
Why step in six-eight time?
‘Cause the cadence is still strict
Reason may follow rhyme
Down the highway through the thicket.
There's smoke and there's flames and so forth
Our embers are fluorescent, of course
If truth's found a host in heresy
Has lying become a ministry
And the way to feel free?
The bleating never seems
To be swept away like clouds
What one proverb redeems
One stray syllable enshrouds.
Never bowing to the corn
Or the way the pine cones shake
You weren't there when you were born
And you won't be when I wake.
© 1996 John Brocato