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For Todd Ferguson | Reflection & Protest Poetry

This is My Church: Fractal Art by Shawn Michel de Montaigne

You say you believe,

and I don’t doubt you.

At best you do.

But that’s all you do.

That’s all you are.

You’re like so, so many others:

you saw the gate and fled from it,

not through it.

After all, you believe.

God help you should you actually find out.

And so you and yours set up camp

very far away from it.

You don’t want to see it,

because you don’t want to be reminded of your cowardice.

Besides, there are the Stewarts, and the Cahoons,

and the Soders, and the Kingsburys!

Good neighbors all.

They’re nice people. So nice.

And isn’t that all that’s important in life—

to be nice?

Isn’t that what you have taught those brats you spawned?

Certainly you don’t want them to see that gate!

Hell no!

Your old man was a pastor, and all he did was believe.

And so that’s all you need to do.

And of the people who walk through that gate

—and never return—

well, you fucking despise them, don’t you?

They’re not nice, are they?

If they were nice they’d not walk through that gate.

They’d not come anywhere near it!

You’re nice. And you believe.

Good for you!


For a betrayer and a bastard,

one who has lived a meaningless, shallow,

consumptive, plastic, suburban cog-life.

He believes himself to be a moral man,

a good father and provider,

one who conforms to society so that

he can have his mortgage and picket fence

and cute little kiddies.

But he's not moral.

And neither is anyone who believes

that conforming to a sick and twisted society

can be in any way moral.


Fractal Art: This is My Church

From: Fractalverse: Volume Two


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