Filthy Indifferences Are Alive Poem by brooklynn dyer

three pinched peddlers
sitting in the back pew of
that humble, rustic church,
keeping their eyes on the
preacher and their hands
in their pockets, blushing
when the offering plate
brushes past them and they
have nothing but finger-ridden
gloves and kind souls to will.
three prosperous portions
resting in the front pew of
that humble, rustic church,
keeping their minds on the
filthy indifferences who
are resting peacefully in
the back bench.