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Ahead Of The Pin Once more the dancer on the pin moves over, making room for lost angels Anonymous signs in, red ink spilled at church last Sunday, wrong time, right place. As the organ sounds, choir altos meld heaven and earth, a plate of potatoes is passed Amen, brothers and sisters, pass the salt. Passing out, hatted ladies run fingers through the aisle A supermarket stands in its place and still we pray. The cash register plays a single note Sopranos step forward combing their hands A caped man kneels down in silence. Cookies are passed around The community signals the bells Someone pays the bill, all hats are removed, pins fall to the floor.


SPIRACLE JOURNAL Volume I Issue No. 1  

Re. In. Vent.

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