Waiting for the Eschaton

“Even so, Lord Jesus, come.” (Rev. 22:20)

Slouching, pinned by boredom to the pew.
Boredom while a pesky fly
flings itself about the slender box
formed by the narrow padded rows.

The sermon has become its own dull beast.
It plods the boards, the polished aisles
dragging lines of scribbled manuscript,
Hebrew words, some scraps of creeds.