3 Sonnets: The Cathedral Made of Gargoyles

to release sins back to Old Scratch. Postmod

freedom, right? Democracy as our god.

Pent up peeling bells. No one keeping score.

But, more importantly, the vote is ricked,

and naysayers run when the dog is sicked.

II. The Curly Shuffle Christ: Time as a Gif from Gaud

In the stoned cathedral, reef rises high,

secondary smoke tickles the gargoyles,

Father Sarducci pleasantly rants, "Why?"

I guess, rhetorically: we must be foils.

The Curly Shuffle's where Christ used to be.

Pews are places you don't sit -- some dog shat --

and sermons are all Apocrypha. See,

Bach-crooning buskers pass round the hat.

Priests woken from opium dreams to hear

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