PLACE OF WORSHIP

I achieved
my spot

in this place of worship
found a pew to myself

unlike the time
when they had locked the door

had singled me
out for exclusion, railed
from the pulpit

my face published
in the prescriptions
nailed to the wooden door

silly me
to overreach
not to comply, my soul
(so young) still
deeply
wed to chaos, disorder,
anarchy

anything that reeked
of liberation

schism
with blind authority

Published by Damian Garside