cathedral bells stacked in towers in a nodding ladder of snapdragons (in furious pinks and yellows) rung by (rung by rung) the workers (sexless) in their hex cells afraid of hell. between the rosetta & pupa pulpit, a labyrinth in silk; parishioners walk calmly to its center (at each turn release a worry kept shook in their heads like a locust in cupped palms) where they're rid of thought and the minister who spun it bleeds their tithe. among grubs & drones handfolded mantises sit, lean, look like praying, waiting for some unwary to engage them.
Josh Pearce has poetry appearing in Blood Lotus, Unquiet Desperation, Transfer Magazine, and Anemone Sidecar. He also has short fiction in Aoife's Kiss and Kaleidotrope. Contact Josh (firstname.lastname@example.org)