D O G.G O D
So, in the words of the great faithless, i say unto you,
This. This place, This Dog, This disgrace
This, is my church.
This, is where I heal my hurts.
This is where without control, my soul dances.
Where the stones beat with hot, release their own trances
This is a time to let space shape the movements of a shoal,
A group goal
Nothing to own
No where to go
This is the last hole
The last chance saloon
The last unturned stone.
This is where my body twitches in the rain
Where the bum shakes and the belly rumbles with thunder,
Begowned without time in naked shamelessness.
This is where there is no trouble.
This is for dancing and dancing and dancing.
This is where the DJ plays
The sky is the limit and souls are saved
This is where we confess
Life is shit
And we seek recompense at the bar, without defences.
This is where our make up runs
And we stumble,
This is where we fall.
This is God's call.
This is where we get up and dance and sing
In this armageddon
This quest for rest eternally relentless
THIS is our church.
R.Bond, August 2013
for dwellers of the Dog and Partridge