Plastic Surgical Hope over Brekkie
Such amounts of amateur theologian, faith run in the marrow
ligaments shaped like halos & roods
an horrific plastic surgery cock-up
—not actually, but such them’s believe is.
they’s winged with daft: them crackpot thinks is been maked-up.
A kitchen with tough lighting holds them found of Christ
— with lamps cannot them’s see enough? i gone blind as a mole.
the brothers talking what they’ll first do
when they pass through the heavenly gates of pearl
& Charlie laughs milk pearls & Coco Pops out his nostrils
the gates weres gone much time ago chums.
him Godly God made shames with making say there’s full
& angry Serap-him got down them gates with harp strings.
&ddition Godly God not is get out from bed, ever!
his bed a massive mess of rum & bacon butties.
—him like that, what’s-iz-name…?
sorta-n’ insect or summat named Jonathan Lemon
from them more times of colourfulness
& peace people with nice hair— had a scary wife like a drippy tap
& sang to the rhythm of ham n’ eggs?
‘cept, well… Godly God is a massive git & them were nice bed-people.
the look Charlie slung up their faces— priceless.
& Charlie gibbers gibbous words come night but Jesus Army
ears are listen good as Confession
with emptied milk glasses pressed on the wall.
: O Godly God them in’t too wrong in their behave
a smidgen lunatic n’ saft but them want well to breathe…
why done tip cow on one of those? they fed me good
who you is such a bugger to, yet let me see you clear as lemonade.
I’m loose my rag with all them wrongs you did
while plastered on the rum & milk.
They angry with his portraiture of Everything them hold as dear.
& breakfast looks of scorn go ignorant
on Charlie’s jocund ways about himself (him water // foddered)
: we quarrel with your love of Christ our Lord
we find it is not satisfactory to health of this commune!
Still not been talkt about this chap you always speaking of?
dumb-losted Charlie says emphatic-wise.
He hard-of- knowing their believes, this place
—he wanting bed & board, he should do study sturdy on
them Jesus persons’ dogma they imagine truth
—the windy shore may clement come of yets
despite the iffy sails that just don’t fit
—but Charlie’s luck is got a breach on the poop-deck.