Ghoulish Machinery Set to Whirling*

(collage by Óglach)

 

There inside the gothic arch

the whirling purple satin stain

mouths the words and makes the mark

and calls me by my given name

The limestone drips with solemn sweat

the windows let the sunlight in

colored by bits of broken glass

shaped in silhouettes of sin

All this time I’ve been deprived

the chance to make a simple step

to open doors to well worn paths

each of which must lead to death

But none more certain than this place

where no heart can find a stable hold

beneath the flagstones the lies will hide

and dust will flour the native bones

It wasn’t me, I try to say

It wasn’t me, the silent cry

It couldn’t be, it’s not my way

and besides I’ve only just arrived—

 

*The title comes from a line in Bringing the Vatican to Justice, an article by American neuroscientist and author Sam Harris, who described Catholicism as “ghoulish machinery set to whirling through the ages by the opposing winds of shame and sadism.”