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untitled
Under nuclear skies
we pray without ceasing
for significant others
and pearly gates
where Blind Willie Johnson
serenades the entrance.
Peace be unto us
from a whirlwind of tropics.
which preachers will realize they are wrong?
And which will rejoice?
And what of the baby asleep
in her cradle
her casket
the time is near
where we will sing aloud
rejoice, children, rejoice
our day has come
planet washed in an amber haze
and the stench
of a billion forfeits.
