Oh dear God,
I am wrong –
Can this poem
Excuse
Any punishment?

Is an empty phrase
So revolting
That suffering
Becomes
What it needs?

My faith insists
There are rules
Behind
Each line
That will kill us,

Governing
How harsh
We feel sentenced
Which in turn
Expresses truth best –

And here’s how sin
Offers proof
For artistry
Raw
As intended,

By fear exposed
Bearing witness
To flaws
Well-known
Where they thrive

By doubtful lies
Reason sells
When divinity
Seems
More conceited

Than another
Mad soul
Sharing secrets
Hoping heaven
Ignores bitter words.

Some terms
Bring calamities down
Upon
Whose pen
Dare deny them –

Just more bad press
Against everything
Honest
But remotely
Obscene.

• J. Pigno