a prophet
away

from chartered lands
and fitted pews,
from smothered sounds
served hot

- expensive food

a prophet
in the graveyard
far from varnished tombs

sees winged whistlers
primed
bills to beaks
for profit

and wanders on
to seek
for cheaper grain,
but sleeps
hungry in his pain

- expensive truth.

Oh Profit!

(from The Nev)
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