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Online Poetry Journal


september edition

Untitled
by Taneka Stotts

cotton candy machine
by zekeil

Two
by Daniel Sanders

The other side of tragedy
by Cohen Morosoff

On the Way to the Library
I See the Reverend

by Micah McKee

Lining in the clouds
by Jose Vadi




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On the Way to the Library I See the Reverend
by Micah McKee

The reverend and his wife are on the side of the bus smiling like the photos in picture frames
              before you buy them
Wearing royal purple the rev's got a gold cross sparkling like Fort Knox moved to Golgotha.
              Hey Rev, I was sitting in the midst of your well-
              adorned ornaments and your varnished-glazed pews
              (they look like brown Krispy Kreme donuts) and just
              last Sunday you said the cross was made of wood--
              whassup with that?
They brought in Uncle Pennybags to play the organ and he does one mean Amazing Grace
              In the middle of his mastery of the capitalist calliope I
              asked my father, "Which do you wanna be the top hat
              the schnauzer or the crucifix?"
I keep finding Bible verses in my 25-dollar Cracker Jack boxes and we keep passing the plate
              around (remember that's God's money inflation's
              rising halos don't cost what they used to He still has
              to pay the gas bill for the fiery hell full of sinners and
              the water bill for Cocytus where the Devil is waist-
              deep in ice flapping his wings madly!)
They stand, singing, waving their hands back and forth like palm trees blowing in a Baptist
              Bahamian wind,
"Lord, Lord
Let the Almighty Dollar be my sword!"
"Go down Moses to Egyptland in nothing less than a limousine and a 300-dollar tuxedo and
              tell ol' Pharaoh to let my people go or God will buy
              out your pyramids and monopolize your empire!"
City lights flashing, neon crosses blinding green atop the new megachurch 4 stories high
              booming with hallelujahs and bursting with the aroma
              of dollar bills.
O Praise the Lord!
Praise Him with your checkbooks and credit cards and bank accounts!
Praise Him with cash (no bills smaller than $20 please)!
Praise Him with billboards and newspaper advertisements and TV commercials!
Praise Him with your regular attendance at Peter Popoff's faith healings!
Praise Him with your rejection of Teletubbies!
I'm supposed to look forward to a better day when all churches are megachurches and the
              company that popularized WWJD gets together with
              Nike and makes a new shoe--Air Jesus and Tammy
              Faye Bakker marries Jesse Jackson and everyone's
              riding Jaguars with crosses on hubcaps,
Only then can we say, in the words of that new Negro spiritual,
On sale at last, on sale at last,
Thank God Almighty it's on sale at last!

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