He looked forward to Sunday

take from this what you may, but be sure to leave some for the next soul to indulge.

entering her sacred temple

as you've prayed for this moment to come

holy water sprinkles your face

"you are blessed, my child"

you kneel to show your worship

as you've been taught to do

in this sanctuary feeling holier than thou, your body is overcome with the urge to speak in tongues

you both connect in a language unbeknownst to outsiders, the sounds just for you two

your spirit fulfilled, your day made

She bows before you leave,

"I'll see you again, same time next week"

You walk down the aisle, shivers in your spine

You hear a voice echo

"And make sure you leave your tithes as you go"

You comply, and as you exit

You view the line of other men in line to receive your weekly dose of religion

Reviews

[John Alexander McFadyen]

I have to say this left me perplexed. I could read it as a complete metaphor for prostitution or the account of insincere religous indoctrination?

[elle]

Upon completion, I realize the poem has several different interpretations, which is what I liked about it. Questioning the churches that force the hands of their congregation (esp. those that are living in poverty) was being compared to the nature of pimps or prostitutes collecting currency from their "John", a fee rendered after a service is provided. I'm sure it may not sit well with some.