The priest filling in for God is telling his flock
they may come to Mass for the wrong reasons.
I hold up one hand and ask, Why are you here?
I love God, he says.
How do you know you love God for the right reasons?
He then orders me expelled from the parish.
Ushers hustle down the aisle to take me out.
I thank them for letting me take the sun,
adding, It beats hell out of that crypt filled with cattle.
I let the bright day furnish my home with a dream.
The excommunication process begins.
I am asked why I asked the priest why he was at the Mass.
Ask God, I reply. You know the answers,
I say: He’s more a scold than a priest.
(28 July 2013)
copyright 2013 by Floyce Alexander