a very noir R.A.D. Stainforth ... he nearly sings at the end ...
God sits upstairs,
like over-sized Orson Welles
trying to sell wine
(but not before its time) –
ascot loose enough
to breathe judgment,
he makes convincing magazine cover,
with that curious
“I'm preparing myself to forgive you”
look all over his face.
The process of purification is a best-seller;
steeplechases the unjust crowd.
Customers drink of the cup,
then chant on the bus:
“Swing low sweet chariot!”
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