The Mother Church official stands
before the congregation, invites
me to shut up, and sit down
(for crying out loud) for I have been
found to be “unfriendly” and there
must needs be my excommunication
from this religious community. Well,
hell … I believe I have not lost faith
in the God Almighty of my Fathers,
but apparently this authority figure
has lost her faith in me. Besides that,
what am I (and my heirs) to do with
a banished Lover, a jailed Magician,
and a wounded Warrior standing
behind an empty King’s chair – except
move on to “X” marks the square.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I'm coming over here from the Huber-Friendly folk at All Poetry. hahahahahahaha