Religion The Catholic Church Poem by James McLain

a stone cathedral looms
like a clenched fist in the skyline.
inside, the prayers rise thick,
a smoke of guilt and gold
curling to the rafters.
the priest's voice drones,
holy threats and promises
slick with wine.

the candles tremble in pew-lit shadows
as sinners kneel,
their hands clasped,
begging God
to forgive the sins
He built them for.

outside, the drunks,
the broken,
and the rest of us
light our cigarettes
and keep walking.