Give me the children’s choir.
The pubescent Hallelujah
with as many pitches as God sees fit.
Give me a congregation-sized pulpit so
everyone can hear how my neighbor’s wife died.
Your neighbor’s wife.
Give me all demigods and demagogs
Let them play cards,
perhaps Euchre, or Hearts.
Give me an opera minus the soap
No amnesia or suicide needed
for the story arc.
Give me a piano. One note
and I can tell you how
the universe really works.