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Troubled Gospel
I cannot find fault
in your heart,
but your eyes
give you away:
all feverish and filed down.
Spare me the garish
sort of impunity --
the sole survivor
of your troubled Gospel.
I don't need to ask you
why it is you can't sleep
at night;
i read it in the paper
just this morning.
My, what an awful thing
to do, child.
So when the telephone rings
and it isn't Godhimself
calling with a slap on the wrist,
ask yourself this:
Whose words hang longest
on your lips?
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This article has 2 comments.
Very interested to know what the infraction was to cause such judgment.
I loved this line "but your eyes...all feverish and filed down".
not sure i understand the last line "whose words hang longest on your lips"?