Mayor Reynolds and Reverend Morgan disagreed about the mall.
Mayor Reynolds rode the wrecking ball into the chapel wall.
Reverend Morgan broke the bonds that tied his hands and feet.
He wielded his book at nothing, seeing only desert heat.
His new flock of hiss and slither came across the sand
And fangs injected poison into the pages and his hand.
Reformed and ready now the Reverend made his way back home.
Pages black and swollen and a wound down to the bone.
He sauntered straight back into town and saw just what he’d feared
His people simply passed him by, name hidden by a beard.
Sat on a tired bus stop bench and read his new good word,
To learn of new and wholesome ways of dealing with the herd.
He lugged a sack of writhing burdens to his old familiar spot.
He recognized the street, but the front doors he did not.
Once he ruled this place and the dozen folks inside.
But now with over fifty, not one recognized his eyes.
He went in with many burdens and left with only one.
Folks focused on their spending until at last snakes had won.
He smiled then, striding at a quicker pace,
So he could sooner see that old familiar face.
The wind blew hard and hid the writhing burden ‘neith his shirt
And shook loose in clouds the dust and sand and dirt.
He stepped into city hall so quick he nearly ran
And asked sweetly for an appointment to go in and see the man.