Bone Church (from Prague chapter)

A gray sanctuary of stone and mortar,
No doors – no rooms –a hallway splitting into a cross
The historic pathway

                                                                        Cruciform chapel
                                                                                     Corridor walls barred off
                                                                          The piles, high and wide, the pyramids
                                                                 Humeruses & ulnas, radii & femurs, tibias & fibulas
                                                                      Densely piled, tight together, skillfully placed
                                                                                          Skulls beside skulls

We move slowly, slightly bowed, down the nave and transept
The walls ornate with human remains
                       Eras of plagues and holy wars

Their royal coat-of-arms,
Details created with
Phalanges & metacarpals, metatarsals & other fragile extensions of us
Beside the coat of bones is a skull,
A Turkish skull, one of their enemies,
Its eye gouged out
By a scavenger bird, small and also bone

 

The chandelier hanging at the crossing
Morbid creation of imagination and will
Made from every bone in my body
Set off by four fat pillars lined with skulls
                                              Bone
                                                                                                                                                                      Skull
                                                                                                                                                                             A skull set off to one side
                                                                                                                                                                             With two femurs beneath
                                                                                                                                                                               A skull the others touch
                                                                                                                                                                                 A skull I capture in my
                                                                                                                                                                                   Thoughts, but cannot
                                                                                                                                                                                     Touch, cannot bring
                                                                                                                                                                                        Myself to unite my
                                                                                                                                                                                             Phalange to its
                                                                                                                                                                                                 Prietal bone

The only décor not made of bone or stone
At the chancel of the great crucifix
The only recognized religious relic
The Christ & Cross image
With golden skin and rich red blood
Altars of bone on either side