"The Passion of the Joker"

The morning's clear despair presents no challenge
to rabbits eating orchid after orchid.

It is holiday in Bedlam;
ev'ry thought begets its future comrade.

Black expiry: not knowing is a cadence
from which to view the distant growing tumult.

I wander with the grilse.
I carry no bodkin.

Today my ailment eases here, or almost,
sitting in line at a sunny backed-up Chevron.

Vampires don the alb
albeit fanged with comfort.

Don't come to me with questions of the wounded.


Father Matthew responds to the Blasphemy Challenge.


"Your/ Magic will be better than their magic..." --Spicer