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Mt. Zion

Old nuns prattle speaking in tongue
mulling over god and devils, roll
stench of death climbs from floorboard creaks then croak 
held under time

She the prayer pulled with might
ran out the ranks to circle file
Holy owned ointment twitching floor 
eyes of large, mouth open
every syllable scripture, daring, old

Cowl embalmed 
black and white
Sattan'as  God
the never sents
hood wink in pride 

She knew fervent
dips into the ether
true rapture
and the let down
of runners high

So in and out
She breathes Jesus
whilst left foot realism
baking her bread of ideals
God is born from another plank

Hallelujah, but She is spiritual
days grow long at the ends of things  
one of high, tormented olden and crone
reaching up for easily converted truths 
downtown  113 Mt. Zion rd.
 
   
Written by souladareatease
Published
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