Friday, April 17, 2015


Rebuilding the pleasure quarter
Workmen found a god sleeping
Under the remains of a table
In the ruins of a large tea house.
It was felt a god was exactly
What the quarter needed
And negotiations were commenced.
He was quite small and slept
For days after a minor miracle
Nor could he keep straight
That a whore's prayer
Does not wait for an answer.
After the war the quarter
Was shut down. Some say
The god was dead by then.
Others insist they've seen him
Drunk and living rough. The whores
Insist he lives. Their prayers,
As usual, go without answers.

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