{ ... }

۞

  Kovax was a fundamental Roman Catholic, but Kovax hatèd red wine.  So, when Kovax went up to the Magister at the front of the church service, where the sanctuary light glowèd constantly, Kovax would cross his arms across his chest and ask for the blessing and not the blood.  

  °God forbid I should see any blood-shed on my rounds° thought Kovax.  

  “May Eous be with thee,” said the Magister to Kovax.  

  Mass was gnostic.  Undoubtèdly.  

  “And also with thee,” replièd Kovax.  

  “Eous is risen,” promptèd the Magister.  

  “Eous is risen,” Kovax replièd.  

  {the star rises at 5AM}  

  Kovax rose at about 5AM.  A clock rang three times …  

  {ding}  

  {ding}  

  {ding}  

  A cock crowèd three times, which always woke Kovax from Kovax's vodka inducèd sleep.  Kovax took to his Chelovyek notebook to write a Haiku …  

IT READ:  

обезглавлен

предан и убит

пропоет петух  

  Kovax always drank himself to sleep.  Kovax put his strap-on on with a hangover.  If Kovax could get airport clearance, Kovax would prolly police the world.  Kovax lovèd his undercover.  Kovax lovèd his lover Georgia under-the-covers.  Under the cover of night Kovax would walk the beat territory; looking for a fight.  

  Under the cover of night.  All is harm.  All is fright.  

  Kovax wantèd to take it further, °Of course, I'm not a virgin, but I'd love to be someone like The Pope.  Vicarious Filii Dei.  Free-to-roam.  I'd take my strap-on into Gaza, as if the robe was a fake ID° thinks the thinker.  Just another dangerous idea.  

۝