The Church

the church

Mr. and Mrs. Brown wore garments made of sackcloth

This was expected of everyone at the church  

They held hands and gave thanks

To that thing that was bigger and better than life itself

They smiled at their comrades

Then everyone got together after

To eat white, gluten-free cake with no sugar in it

And to talk for a while about what a gift it is to be alive

They grew up in this church

They met each other here

They married here

They raised their children here

When they go home

Mr. Brown goes into his room

Mrs. Brown goes into hers

Mr. Brown locks his door

He lights a cigar and pours himself a glass of brandy

When he is done, he gargles some mouthwash and sprays his room with air freshener

Then he comes out in his sackcloth robe

Mrs. Brown locks her door

From under her bed, she pulls out a red dress that she hides in a suitcase under the bed

It’s so pretty. She puts on the dress and applies some lipstick

She stands in front of the mirror and admires herself for a while

Then she removes the dress, packs it back into the suitcase

Wipes away the lipstick and comes out in her sackcloth nightgown.

They eat their dinner of dry crackers and water

They smile at each other as they swallow the tasteless chalky clumps

They give thanks for sustenance, oh how fortunate to not starve

They look down at their plates and think about steaks smothered in gravy, which the church does not allow

Copyright® Michele Koh Morollo 2015


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