Sunday, June 17, 2018

Two-Line Poems, Continued



June 8:

Watching Megan’s sister study at her desk each night, she learns to focus on the sliding doors in the church parlor where Mrs. Freeman claims the overflow congregated hiding a stop on the underground railroad.

June 9:

Confirmed alone without training, she took the Bible her father gave her, watching white spittle slide down his chalky chin.

June 10:

Rome falls in the book of Revelation, horsemen of the apocalypse like that spring in Bradford Woods when a Sunday school teacher thought teens needed to learn about hell instead of Clint Eastwood painting a town red.

June 11:

She slapped at bee stings while she mowed, a brother on the church roof hoisting a pellet gun to a shoulder, aiming down across a parking lot toward the lawn.

June 12:

Determined, industrious, a pioneer breaking turf in a back garden near the Avon proving the value of American hard work and focus, these were the claims she heard that summer that made it so hard to stay.

June 13:

Presbyterian and Britney Spears, anagrams with double meanings like “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God” turning the other cheek that Florida summer when my brother and I played duck, duck, goose on the church lawn.

June 14:

Connecting horror with the fairy tale opens a space for interdependence and what del Toro calls “beauty and love,” a “Once upon a time” opening and “They lived happily ever after” ending of most fairy tales meeting the monster.

June 15: running out of childhood churches   

Failing as director of a church latchkey day care, she set two alarms and a wake-up call to pick up milk so early her parents threw her into the basement, dark, damp, and cool.

*Uncle Boonmee: Who Can Recall His Past Lives*

June 16:

Bob Wassinger hated her church, its comfortable pews, lack of kneeling, and short services. A priest explained his focus on atmosphere, losing oneself in the ritual, while she thought faith, hope, and the greatest of all meant more.

June 17:

Why does he ask us to look at a cross or kneel at an altar when visiting Bitzy dog for my neighbor brings me closer to Go

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