Odd duck of a poem poured out of me tonight on a Reddit broadcast in response to a headache I was nursing.
Manila Wafers
The halo behind my
head is throbbing again.
Nothing particularly
immaculate about this
divine disk, padre.
My pinky never learnt
to play bass and that's no
church's fault still they
could have instructed
prayer more rigidly,
made us put tacks in our
shoes or at least offer
to crucify one of us.
The only spell known
to counteract a 666 tattoo
is a christian sincerely
laughing at you. Trench
grin of a surf instructor
flushed with flavor aid -
his eyes roll back if
he whiffs blood near
the wafers. Kingly
bare chest bearing shark
tooth necklace summer
sandblasting these
kiddy cultists back to
hell through the parody
purgatory of bible camp.
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