Wheat Ears – Selected Poems

Match

Give me a match

he cried

just one match is needed

to light my fiery mind and

walking to the pulpit

he crossed himself before

taking communion

priest’s eyes rolled around

the congregation as if saying

this man doesn’t belong here

this man is not allowed

to stand before the icons

with a match in his hand and

in his other holding tight

the fuse of the dynamite

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