are you washed in the blood?
Easter Sunday finds me
at the Southern Baptist Church
down the road where
the Hope’s Bluff community
worships
this is the one day
out of the year
I set aside my rampant atheism
and join my wife and children
in a little
self-righteous jesus mongering
my presence here
offers the wife a fleeting optimism
despite her belief
death will divorce us
utterly
leaving me to pay
a spiritual alimony
from hell
for all eternity
or maybe
my absence is what
paradise is all about
the preacher hacks
about the blood of the lamb
washing away
the sins of iniquity
his sermon finally petering out
into hyperventilating gasps
I notice cum stains
on my pants near my knee
that’s not my cum
I think
subtly scratching at
the crusty go go juice
last time I wore these pants…
had to be a couple
weeks ago
and now it makes sense
with the memory of
Angela at Fantasms
baptizing my knee
with five dollar rodeo rides
was I so fucked up
I hung up my pants
rather than throw
them in the hamper
upon returning home?
closer inspection ever reveals
specks of stripper glitter
that angel dust of broken homes
bedeviling my polyester
so it’s not my soul
needing to be washed
in the blood of the lamb
so much as my slacks
could use some warm water
and detergent
and for the first time
in a long time
I pray
Karl Koweski continues to watch his age increase on literary website bios. He’s spent the last twelve years on top of a mountain in Alabama and still doesn’t pick a banjo with any degree of skill. His latest chapbooks “Diminishing Returns” and “Industrial Strip” are available from http://www.sunnyoutside.com and http://www.covertpress.org respectively. His first feature length collection of short stories, “Blood and Greasepaint” is due out this year from Epic Rites. He writes a monthly column, Observations of a Dumb Polack” for http://www.zygoteinmycoffee.com.
Nice work.
jayzus that was good!