| A private thing |
| So silent, the rain-swept streets strewn with rubbish and a rat someone has run over street lights dead afraid to walk alone, it is so quiet, the risen Christ privately worshipped by private candlelight kneeling at the altar of �thou shalt� each his neighbour�s benediction afar, afar sound the sound of bells cathedral bells church bells are tolling tolling tolling tolling the rattle of civilisation but the civilised are at mass, eating Christ they do not hear the bells they hear only the �amens� only the �blessed be�s� their eyes are plugged with cotton and their ears with wax while the spots creep upward on their chalice on their priests |
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| � 2003 Kyle Altis. All rights reserved. |