Gothicking

 

Haven't been to
Chaucertown since
I was a young one

but that was a
retreat where
you ate very little,

you had a secret
stash of sweets
waiting for you

because hunger is
a savage bastard
that doesn't settle
down for crumbs,

I think how odd
it all looks since
i've grown older

looking at tickets
costing a bomb
just to gaze into
place of worship,

how we wandered
around outside it
the evening before
like rebels without
sacrificing silver

I thought about those
sweets waiting for me
all those years ago,

how that cathedral
would have blushed
knowing I traded them
for every hymn we're
always waiting to
sing out loud

if it saw our
kind of worship
beneath white
cloth.