I saw a priest
click an icon
in the Internet
cafe by the sea
with one of those
starving Greek cats
rubbing his
wine-swollen knee;
there are sacred
things on the Web
and many nude
ladies too;
old women still
lighting candles
and praying for
something true;
the tiny little
church was empty
our scientists
will always say
yet it felt more
than just a shop
open twenty-four
hours a day;
the image of
a golden saint
brought to life
in dusty rays;
the unshaded
computer screen
disappears in
a blinding haze
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