I stand before the altar
Because all has been altered.
We had terms and conditions
Endearing permissions
and you changed your position.
You didn’t ask, let alone beg my pardon
You never promised to stand guard in
Front of Schröedinger’s Tomb.
A Stone held in superposition
Another damned imposition
Posing in the way
Casting shadows & lots
Drawing the last straw
From a Camel’s mouth
while the horse of course
Coughs mutely, if only sub-acutely
A nervous wreck systemically adrift
In an electric sea
where sin appears
Like a bolt
Of chemical lightning.