I grew up a good alter boy
kneeled with the others, a ring,
a body held, where a miracle
occurred in the eyes of them all.
They asked me to marry him.
I said no — so my CCD teacher
showed up at my house & asked
me was it something he said?
I told him how I stopped feeling
God’s hand over the average world,
the heaviness of gravity,
the warmth of a star,
the bleeding fish, the calf
that calls for momma
and you shot it Satan who sits
in a lawn chair. Go ahead,
wipe the blood from my door frame.
We don’t read in this house anymore.
We buried dimes in the sawdust at the BBQ.
I bet some of them are still there.
© Trapper Markelz 2021
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