A Curse Poem by John Thorkild Ellison
A Curse
The moon slips in the sky,
The stars are out of kilter,
The homosexual priest
Will desecrate the altar.
No good turning to him in fear
If you want compassion or shelter:
False coinage of a blasphemous Pope
Thrown into the wishing-well water -
Hide yourself in an orgy of grief,
Beware of the hooded mother,
Her breast is eaten by a worm
As you listen to her hideous laughter.....
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4/26/2024 3:01:54 AM # 1.0.0.1119
