Every Monday
you brought your Sunday
finest to the bus stop:
harsh words, hard fists
inflicted on the infidel
who kept Jesus
in her hope
chest—along
with a copy
of Anne Frank
and the sugar-
sweet stopper
from a Drambuie
bottle—and who
prayed at night
between bed sheets
to whoever listened.
A good Christian boy,
you went to church
but spent your Mama's
tithing coins on gum
and candy, later
cigarettes and beer,
spent your envy
on those not forced
to make the commute
to a cross-covered
space, spent your
fear on those
who believed
in a different fashion.
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In the 70s, a churchless girl growing up in North Carolina got a good dose of wumping--and ostracism. Written this month in response to a prompt (judging) and based on a true childhood. Thank you for reading; all suggestions on this draft welcome. Peace...
A) I know this boy
B) I hate to break it to you, but there's more than one of him, many more, in Alabama.
C) I have mad love for the last eight lines.*
Gita, thanks for the generous comment and fave. And I will be sure to avoid Alabama! Peace...
Great. Have you tried writing this out as a flash piece? Try it and compare. I wonder which reading would be stronger. I think it could go either way.
Nice... strikes a chord... forced to Sunday school against his will, this writer can't even stand the Unitarians... that's pretty bad.
Sally... I like your idea of rendering this as a flash fiction. Hmmm... thank you, for this, and the comment, and fave. Peace...
Steven, thanks for reading! One reason this writer BECAME a UU was because of the intolerance she experienced growing up in the South because she did not go to church. They only had Christian places of worship in Raleigh (there was one synagogue), no UUs. Peace...
Good piece, Linda. Good form. Strong 2nd stanza.
I like the characters, the situation, and the implications expressed in your poem: which scratches the surface of a fertile soil ripe with literary potential while giving a self contained overall view. Peace... *
Sad and kind of chilling. I felt cold reading this. You did this subject well with the sparse lines and lots of white space around the poem.
*
Nice! So glad I came here this morning.
*
Sam, thanks for reading and faving this poem from my childhood. Peace...
J. Mykell, thank you for such an interesting comment on my poem; this spiritual conflict continues to play a huge role in my life. Peace...
Susan, interesting comment... feeling cold reading this poem. I remember feeling very alone, which is a kind of coldness. Thank you for reading and faving! Peace...
Michelle, so glad you came 'round this morning, too! Thank you for reading my wee poem. Peace...
As a North Carolina boy who couldn't decide between the altar call and eternal damnation I have some empathy for the boy. Love the Jesus in the hope chest with the Drambuie bottle stopper.
John, thank you for your generous comment--and hope you picked damnation! Peace...
Well done, Linda. *
Liked this piece Linda. *
"spent your envy," "spent your fear" -- I feel your compassion shining through, despite everything. *
Jim, thank you so much for reading and faving! Peace...
Gloria, thank you fo reading and liking this poem! Peace...
Beate, thank you so much for reading and faving. Based on a true story--aren't all our fictions? Peace...
Perfectly matched, bullies and Carolina religion...