ONCE MORE, WITH DIMMISH

Rumor spread through the school
That Mary Dimmish, once a kirkgrim
Who haunted a church and now
English mistress, was keeping
A provost in her cupboard.
(Whether his will kept him there
Or if he was a sort of trophy
Or a souvenir of days at the beach
Rumor would not say, smiling faintly
When pressed by the senior girls).
At last Anne -- an American and so
Not subject to ordinary rules --
Interrupted a session on unsprung rhythm
To ask "Miss Dimmish, everyone says
You have a provost. Do you?"
Miss Dimmish raised her left eyebrow
Then lowered it. Raised the right one
Then blinked twice and sighed.
"Perhaps. But only a very small one."

KIRKGRIMS

When at last one cannot tell that here
A church once stood, the kirkgrim
Is relieved of duty, given a suit of clothes
And a very small sum of money
Having been, perhaps for centuries, church spirits
They are woefully unprepared for the modern world.
Those who look like men are able
To find work as bartenders or navvies or ninjas
But those of animal shape too often take to crime.
It is for them we solicit today. Give as your heart prompts
Remembering that your spirit, from the look of it,
May well spend time in similar plight.