#Fiction Friday: #Micropoetry from the Book

Mormoni.jpg

They were everything fried & boiled peanuts,
we were pâté & petit fours.
They were sweet tea & nanner puddin’,
we were champagne & caviar.

Greenhaven was like a steam bath
with sidewalks that went on for miles,
where most of the citizens were natives
except for a few Northern exiles.

A Catholic brother,
a Mormon elder,
& a Holy Spirit walked into a house:
One stayed,
two left,
but the one that stayed
would bring the other two back.

There were 4 men;
I saw them all in relation to me:
a brother,
a friend,
a friend’s brother,
a boyfriend.
This single night was ours alone.

Religion was about losing yourself,
spirituality, finding yourself;
the first was a burial of the old self,
the second, an unearthing of the new.

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