There’s a confidence
Feeling so sick
As objective truths
Cannot answer
What question kills
Very slowly
When hiding in sight
Being asked

By those who dare
Look up close
Or examine fears
Under x-rays
Like their suffering
Turning towards data
Without findings
Other than faith

Under hospital gowns
Growing cold
Trading heaven’s light
For fluorescents
And bargaining still
Seeking evidence
That God might care
Even less

If suspending doubt
Getting close
To discover such lies
Incidental
Caught on whims
Chasing symptoms
No rational man
Ever knows

Since believing now
Barely quells
This gnawing pain
Needing numbers
Where pills dispensed
Over hunches
Soon invalidate
Life after death

Through liturgies
Held between scans
Just worshipping flesh
At its limits
Refusing proof
Something greater
Should dictate hope
Unconvinced.

• J. Pigno