Prayers at Pantheon

A Poem

By Nkateko Masinga

Let my holy oil anoint your head.

I am your call to worship.

Sistine is too intricate,

Pantheon too far.

Come pray here —

in tongues.

Open me up like you do cathedrals.

My mouth is only for moaning

but if I wanted to speak,

it would be to direct you:

Stroll through Pisa,

Tower over me.

I lean over.