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Madonna and Child

Alex Dimitrov

Friday night service on Christopher Street,
medallion mass and observance of
virgins lighting cigarettes.

Our saints slut back stares down the disco
where rent and trade swap for
the dosage they’ve lost.

Now only the mother of God can forgive them.

Her record spins twice
and they’re fed full fed up.
All the pain they must mock to feel better.

And I don’t care if his face gives out
before you call my name.
I’m down on my knees,

I know you’ll take me there.

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