The bell is cracked

But no matter

Thou who do not hear it

Would not come


And the stained glass windows

Are stained indeed

And glean of red and green

Cast pools of colour in the dust


And pageantry and promp

Have grown too pompous

And the fat priests

Are old men dressed in funny clothes


And the plastic virgin

Simpering in a blue robe

Had her nose broken off

Before they invented penicillin


It used to turn them on

Or so they say

No more! No more!

They all freaked out Amen.


H SV Beechey