And Lord Oh, So Benevolent

Each-day whispers in its benevolence Coughs in the daylight; spills out the night: Much like a Morello, cherry stone - stoned. 'We hold it up by hook or by crook… 'Tallow and dripping; bleeding, unforgiving'. 'We're the benefactors' of hope and charity' 'Our generous palms' fumble-for-sucker — With dirt ladled nails… 'We cherish childhood's best-lost endeavours — Those days… Dusted off with broken' cotton pillows, On our eiderdown of settling, white feathers. …Closely followed I hear a clog, clog clogging. And I see four Pallbearers in the foyer — And lord oh, so benevolent now to my satisfaction. Now, there is only one singed black feather.