Vicar

Towing the line of faithful bosses
Bishop to Archbishop to ascend
For himself the collar
Dogma as a pet

His Divinity made form 
In thrall to bells and prayers
Cross- referencing the Bible 
With behaviour

Not hard to mock his frock
Gift him the zeal of wars
At Noah's pairs a sneer 
While hurling condoms at the Pope

Be not more attached than he 
To Corinthians and liturgy
Beyond the harped-up angels 
He is wholer than thou 

His wise men Yaakov, Shakti, you
His very heart a Mecca
Living Glasto guru's Oneness 
As a given

Writing large the Yes
The Hope too often floundering in mithering
His Book a resource
Not a stick

Pulling crackers with the lonely
Mindful of our peace
Even as the brunch cutlery 
Rattles on 

Gentle acts of generation 
Freed of genuflection
Using but one box of tools
For souls to mould a meaning 

'God is Love'- for some the CV of
A bearded bogeyman
For him the richer gem that 
Love is God

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Filed under Mumbo Life, Mumbo Obsessions, Mumbo poems, Mumbojumbosheepism

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