Prone before the archbishop, he averted his face from the
severe brocade and chasuble stained with incense and filth,
his hands pressed to the cold marble.

I like to think he lay there absently musing on the first time
he focused his cardboard scope, and saw ears on Saturn: he
and his planet, both recklessly deaf to the distant growl of anathema.

Rob Sulewski is a playwright who teaches writing at the University of Michigan. His recent work has appeared in the Bear River Review and Blue Unicorn.

Also by this author
Published in the January 23, 2015 issue: View Contents

Most Recent

© 2024 Commonweal Magazine. All rights reserved. Design by Point Five. Site by Deck Fifty.