stain glass backdrop distorting sunlight
prisms dance ballerina-esque across drab wall treatments
a dusty sofa waits for weight
undisturbed spider webs cast thin shadows
still air, thick, smells of old woman floral perfume
it is in this hallowed place that God is said to reside
pews arranged in rows all facing front
obsessive-compulsive God cannot handle uneven praying
his vehicle, a balding *******, writes of God’s love
on a pizza strained napkin
Dominos delivering salvation from hunger
for pennies on the slice
slit wrists bleed crimson pools
he knows they are at the door
but the supple skin of the new altar boy was too much to bear
and isn’t God all about forgiveness anyway
shame and loathing fill the sanctuary
as consciousness begins to fade
looking at the crucifix, tears stream down blushing cheeks
which is the bigger sin he thinks
**** or suicide