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February 2016 Collage Poem

 

Jesus went for a rather long walk

Through magpie faeces to the slaughterhouse

In the stench of hate

Hanging with religious gangrene

Cushioned in silent landscapes

Immersed silently with broken hope

 

Put away like broken dishes

A poetic riddle told what it could be,

Branches creaking like hands clapping

To the answer given.

 

 

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