They Don’t Build Cathedrals Anymore

Out of town

we are but strangers in a strange land

with homeless dust drying in our mouths

and disappointment etched 

like claw scars down our cheeks.

Almost horror struck we stared

from behind barbed wire fences

as oxide red skeletons stretched 

up into the cod-scaled greyness. 

Two cranes take to the dance floor 

performing a slow motion tango. 

The beat of blueprints 

synchronizes their movements; 

arms swing angular, all brute force and sweat.

As wonderment pushed grit from our eyes 

we stood 

like corner shop natives

waiting for that moment

when the glass dome was to be set

like a diamond.  We gasped at the thought

that automatic doors would welcome us inside 

to walk upon the marbled floors, 

and to listen to the chorus of cash tills singing: 

“Hallelujah” 

as they exchange all our prayed for dreams 

with credit card receipts; consumer redemption 

available 10 a.m. to 10 p.m., even on Sundays.  

For now we have seen the light, 

nine out of ten of us agree, you have to buy icons

to obtain retail spirituality.

© 2006  P.A.Levy

First published by Social-i  2010