an
entire church of hands
attempts
to tell the truth
on
the internet
the
choir tries to tell
the
lies, to tell them into truth
while
the advertisement clamors
for
its rightful slice of
mind
in pieces the pastor
forgets
how to sing and so
chokes
on the sun pouring in
let
the hands hold on while
the
roof shakes off
the
tiles lie down in seductive
terrain
and mostly crying
happens
among
the
congregants
so
who
is laughing now
ah
it is the advertisement
it
cannot stop
cannot
help itself
it
is drunk on the bad air
of
nobody
buying
this shit
anymore
Kyla Houbolt writes, mostly poems, though she is old enough to know
better. You can find most of her published work on her Linktree, here: @luaz_poet| Linktree and follow her on Twitter @luaz_poet
