Counsel, likely Reader, be my Muse—

For this your Poet's Head is some Confus'd.

Through Shapes I change, but steady Diction choose:

Today I chug a Chevy to Ballew's.

 

      (If your Heaven has a Supermarket Store

Where Thieves abound but Never lift a till,

My Shop today is Holier, though Poor,

And Smaller too, nigh Honest Microville.)

 

You who listen might be Unaccustomed yet

To daily being Head of some new Mind;

But far from That, what stumps this meta-Tête

Came Straight today from Pastor's Collar kind.

 

                  NOW'S THE TIME TO FACE YOUR RECKONING,

            That Collar said again. IT AIN'T NO EASY THANG!

            (I saw It sweat for Cain.) I felt the Spirit beckoning

            My Sinner's Body tried …

 

                                                        I knelt—I bowed—I lied.

 

      (Left and right were Fronts like mine Inclin'd

As one, by Plight or Plenitude in Prayer.

What happened next I ne'er divin'd:

A Preacher shouting That on Sacred Dare?)

 

                  THESE HERE VISIONS COME FROM GOD ALMIGHTY,

            WHO STIRRED MY SOUL, GO FORTH AND SAY—

            THAT HEAVEN STANDS FOR GAY NORMALITY!

            I SPAKE THE WORD OF GOD SO LET US PRAY.

 

                  DEAREST LORD WHO HOLD'ST MY WIFE AND I,

            MY BED BEFOUL'D, LET ME REPENT MY SIN …

            FOR THIS HERE JOYOUS BURDEN SHALL I TRY—

            AND WITH A MAN IN DUTY LIFE BEGIN!

 

                  Pastor glowed with ruddy Fervor for His Cause,

            As e'er have I to share his Lexicon.

            The Faithful bobbed their Heads with Rev'rent Pause,

            So gladly 'Tranced and freely Arted on.

 

      For a day at Work I park my Chevy here

And ponder all this Space that He's created.

Can the Clerk at a convenience store be Queer?

And not just Let but by the Lord Mandated?

 

      A look around the Room soon baffles me—

I see already Two who've had the News.

From yet another Church these Zealots be:

No later Kissed than, Bidden, left the pews.

 

      If my Shop gives Honesty a Realm,

But equal Service to High Pious Apathy,

My View today is Underwhelm'd

Of how to Clerk so Varied Territ'ry.

 

      But before I interview the Pair

(This not with Sophist Script shall do!)—

I've never seen such Rare Hebdomadaire …

My double Muse and Reader, what say You?