COMMUNION/ABSOLUTION

We line up at the altar like bums at a bar,
hands out and mouths open to affix our next fix
to tongues that are speaking of things as they are
just beyond reach of our quivering lips.

In roccocco ailses we assemble in line
like cows being led to the slaughter;
for a hunk of the Host and a sip of the Wine,
Ritz crackers and grape-juice in water.

Christ dies weekly in millions of mouths,
rolled over the gums like a carnival ride;
at last lies at rest with the greatest of truths:
for all ye who seek, now ye can hide.

4-28-91