boar.html


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            <h1 class="title">The boar</h1>
            

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            <p>Now the ticking clocks scare me.<br />The <a href="mountain.html">empty</a> rooms, clock towers, belfries;<br />I am terrified by them all.</p>
            <p>I really used to enjoy going to church,<br />singing in the choir, listening to the sermon.<br />Now the chairs squeal like dying pigs—</p>
            <p>It was the boar that did it.<br /><a href="telemarketer.html">Fifteen feet</a> from me that night<br />in the grass, rooting for God<br />knows what, finding me instead.</p>
            <p>I ran, not knowing where or how,<br />not looking for his pursuit of me.<br />I ran to God’s front door, found<br />it locked, found the <a href="i-am.html">house</a> empty</p>
            <p>with a note saying, “Condemned.”</p>
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