How Corporate Myths Renew Themselves

When I worshiped in my local church
we often shared  with visitors how the gargoyles
outside under the eaves were more than Gothic guttering.
They were once demons,
long since petrified by our local saint
as a warning to demonic visitors.
Now I meditate on my creed doing the stations of the aisles
in my local supermarket. There belief comes from spending,
rather than expecting Heaven at any moment.
Each time I leave I give the one pound deposit
for using the trolley, and the biggest smile I can muster,
to the wee man sat outside selling 'The Big Issue'.
He rarely speaks or smiles because he has no front teeth,
and I give to help him feel less petrified by his lowly status.