At the Astapovo Station / Excreta / Churches

Ted Richer

 

At the Astapovo Station

No God.
. . .
No God sees.
. . .
No God sees the truth.
. . .
No God sees the truth, but waits.
. . .
So who?
. . .
So who sees?
. . .
So who sees the truth?
. . .
So who sees the truth, but waits?
. . .
No one.
. . .
No one sees.
. . .
No one sees the truth.
. . .
No one sees the truth, but waits.
. . .
No one, Tolstoy.
. . .
No one.

 


 

Excreta

soon
shit
I am dead
spring too should die
when
I am dead
. . .
soon
shit
I am dead
summer and fall too should die
when
I am dead
. . .
soon
shit
I am dead
winter too should die
when
I am dead
. . .
and
shit
you
too

 


 

Churches

She took me to her old church:
To see its architecture.
She said I would be impressed.
“Why?” I said.
“The church is small in its
largeness,” she said.
But still a church, I thought.
. . .
Outside.
Inside—
The largeness of the church
oppressed me.
“The church oppresses me,” I said.
“The believers like it,” she said.
“I don’t,” I said.
“You don’t matter,” she said.
. . .
She took me to her new church:
To see its architecture.
She said I would be impressed.
“Why?” I said.
“The church is large in its
smallness,” she said.
But still a church, I thought.
. . .
Outside.
Inside—
The smallness of the church
depressed me.
“The church depresses me,” I said.
“The believers like it,” she said.
“I won’t,” I said.
“You won’t matter,” she said.

Ted Richer

Ted Richer is the literary editor of Free Inquiry.


  At the Astapovo Station No God. . . . No God sees. . . . No God sees the truth. . . . No God sees the truth, but waits. . . . So who? . . . So who sees? . . . So who sees the truth? . . . So who …

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