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Man of Cloth


Hey you! It's you am talking to, don't look back. God in his true magnanimous self endowed you with vision. I haven't produced a braille version of this text, so yes you can see. Maybe you've perched a pair of glasses on your nose ridge. The bottom line is you can see and that makes us acquaintances. We could grab a drink some time and deliberate about the pros and cons of vision.What do you think?

We have big eyes and sharp wits. My friend and I. Nothing on God's green earth goes unnoticed and unscrutinized in the scope of our vision. Men of cloth notwithstanding.

My neighbor is a Bishop. A tittle bestowed to him because of founding a church rather than divine consecration. Nonetheless, he is revered like a deity.The loyalty of his subjects to him rivals that of men to their football team. A polite reminder, if your man doesn't love football, get him a leotard and enrol him to a ballet class. 

He is a humble man. The kind of man a mother would like you to emulate. He has no facial hair and is always clad in priestly vestments that look like dresses. This leaves his two children, with shreds of his immaculate personality embedded in their DNA, as the only proof of his masculinity. A cathedral he was building stalled due to the devil's intervention and the pillars have since grown moulds. Maybe the fore man was demon-possessed and couldn't continue.However, when it comes to his stately mansion the devil draws a line. It stands tall above other structures in the village. Incase you didn't know Satan can be choosy, now you know.

Growing up, his children had been coerced into subscribing to their parents' faith. When puberty took the best of them, they rebelled. The elder son became a peddler. Out of all the beautiful choices in life he chose to intoxicate his liver and fill his lungs with smoke. The daughter, after some pep talk from the mother and disciplinary action from the father, changed and joined the choir. Her sweet voice would confuse the devil into letting his guard down before she attacked aggressively with prayer.

Recently, a choir master had been banished from the church for looking at her the wrong way. He tried to shoot his shot by winking at her in the middle of a refrain.She stormed out and told his father the poor guy had asked her to get cosy with him.Just a wink!

Once, the man of God came home after cutting short a divine trip he had. His daughter was kneeling on the floor kowtowing fervently to a son of man. The latter was plucking his vestal daughter's rosebud leisurely. Apparently, he had heard the daughter call him before he came in. Imagine his surprise when he realized someone else other than him occupied the 'daddy' rank in his daughter's hierarchy of beings. Turns out she not only used her mouth for singing. That explained the sore throat that made her skip choir practice.

He wanted to go on his knees and pray but then he realized he would be wrongly accusing the devil. He recalled the moments he used his anointed hands to pat the rumps of his petite secretaries. The moments he would conduct a little anatomy to establish the cause of barrenness and cast out the demented spirits with his sole weapon. Just like Moses he parted seas with it. 

Church coffers were emptied to build his mansion. The little bastards he had willfully donated to the hapless girls that came seeking for spiritual transcendence shrieked his name from yonder. The pressure twisted his nerves, and he started walking around chanting lewd songs and displaying his virile apparatus to the world.

The devil is a liar but more often than not, he becomes a scapegoat.Not being judgemental, just using my eyes. Those with me say aye....The ayes have it.

A. Major


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