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Communion.

by John G.Hall 

Posted: 12 October 2003
Word Count: 119
Summary: A deity comes to dinner.


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Communion.


My mother brings my fathers god to him
in a small leather bag every Sunday morning.
God travels the road snagged in her pocket
smuggled past betting shop & doctors office.

He travels through streets holy incognito
freshly cooked ,dreaming of tasty souls
grace wriggling amongst her shopping.
A last meal served by a mother to some
other mothers son, a-ring-a-roses of Pietas.

God undressed, a white poppy rolled in flour
is eaten unseasoned by snaked tongues, power
and glory, going going gone! She turns the sack
inside out incase a piece of Jesus has hung back,
then tucks gods carrion bag in her top drawer along
with her sympathy cards & the comfort of crumbs.


John G.Hall(c)2003






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Comments by other Members



Anna Reynolds at 16:49 on 16 October 2003  Report this post
John, this is delicious- every line is packed with imagery and uses all the senses. How inventive. 'Grace wriggling among her shopping' really stood out for me, and I read it through several times, each time getting a new thought. Gorgeous.

Tuppence at 15:58 on 10 January 2005  Report this post
just love ur work keep going back 2 read more x


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