Saturday, January 23, 2010

POEM: couch potato bishop

the couch potato bishop
governs by paper
instead of crook
otherwise that could mean
standing up

dispassionate examinations by
committee are worded just so--
so as to presverve his
reputation for his non-
confrontational approach;
and thereby retain
the world’s esteem
(that is, of those who know his name)
and thereby make everyone
comfy, especially
the lukewarm

a document should soothe
like that well-worn groove
on the Simpsons’ sofa, where
Homer can pat himself on the belly
after gorging on a box of
jelly doughnuts

and should anyone decide to transgress
let’s not get too hung up on the rules,
that causes the lukewarm any distress
after all—
rules are made to be broken
for a reason

Me? I am orthodox and insubordinate
so I’m bereft of the prophetic spirit

but what I see lost in the calls
for fillial reverence and proprieties
is a confession of the blunt truth; as if
our salvation was founded on niceties;
no, our Church was built on the blood and
bones of Christ and every martyr; they
refused to mince their words or barter
we, on the other hand, bellyache over our
social conscience; because God forbid we look
too dumb or extreme to
our opponents

the bishop? he is safely tucked away
behind committee doors
safe from the blood of the culture wars
that’s all done by the pro-life nutjobs--
who are carefully muted

meanwhile the radical-less church
is slowly