John MacDonald

 Infidels of the Church of the Next Word
  
 arched like a cold backache,
 tinged red at the edges,
 words
  
 stand in doorways,
 eyes fixed in sockets,
 wide-eyed,
  
 as if they needed
 no latte
 no espresso
 no cappuccino
 no americano,
  
 believing correctness
 the beginning of sanctity.
  
 They are the rocks impeding our journey.
  
 Those most skilled at removing obstacles,
 misdirection and lies from language,
  
 roll away the stone
 and go forth!
  
 There will you find
 your disciples already
 off message,
  
 worshipping the circumflexes,
 manicules, semicolons and apostrophes,
  
 peering into laptops
 like mirrors hung from cages.
  
 But a new day is not
 the Word.
 It is the work of human agents.
  
 Those that do not understand this
 shall be cast out
 of the temple,
  
 trussed in inarticulate clusters.
 with stinging raindrop cold,
  
 never talking,
 only crowing
  
 no conversation
 no ideas
  
 just mimicking
 their owner’s language.
  
 Copyright 2021 by John MacDonald 

Author’s Statement

This poem blends content of two of my own poems with an article, ”The holy founding text of The Church of the Next Word, as revealed to Frank Lantz”, posted in Matt Webb’s blog, Interconnected.

Bio:

John MacDonald is a poet living in Silver Spring, Maryland, experimenting in a variety of styles of poetry and poetry performance. His poems have appeared in various publications, including Gargoyle Magazine, Haiku Journal, and Dual Coast Magazine. He has directed and presented several choral presentations of his poems, as a guest of the Performetry @ BloomBars series in Washington, DC, and is an occasional guest poet for Poetic License and Poetic Resistance, two improvisational comedy troupes based in Washington, DC.

30 for 30 is sponsored by Potomac Review