itching legs & yahweh

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
as if church itself wasn’t enough of an embarrassment.

Submitted: November 02, 2011

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Submitted: November 02, 2011

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the young boy had told his mother

he thought he was allergic to ivory soap,

in fact, he’d told her the night before---

but come sunday morning

all the care in the world couldn’t keep him

from being dragged to church

where the zombies sing in tones that couldn’t be

dreamt up to have any likeness less than that of a

poor cat being torn up in a blender

(whose screams & howls could probably still ignite

more

interest in the flock)---

and since there had been no other soap in the house

that morning

when he’d been told to clean up & to throw on the

“appropriate attire”

(of which of course, all supposed omniscient creators

are

concerned with for some reason),

and so the boy went to church

against his better judgement &

against his own will

(as he’d already started to wonder quite seriously

about

red seas parting, staffs becoming snakes, walking on

water,

lepers coming back to life, etc.).

 

standing there listening to the tone-deaf

make-believe that amidst the wooly they hold some

of the

most beautiful singers in the world,

the young boy’s legs insanely itch---

every free moment he crouches down and digs

through his

suit pants to get at the irritated skin beneath,

infuriated by the whole situation, feeling as if he

is held captive by the zombies round him &

in knowing that if he was just old enough to drive,

he could go to a store & get a decent soap

that he wasn’t allergic to.

 

suddenly the minister who has been eyeing the room

during the massacre of melody taking place,

notices the boy itching & twisting where he is

standing---

when the “hymn” ends,

the minister smiles at the young boy now sitting

(but still itching)---

“looks like someone has the holy spirit this fine

morning!’

says the minister, smiling (as if to encourage a smile

amongst the

zombies)---

the young boy looks up at the minister &

then pans the room, still itching,

simply retorting,

“goddamit!”

 

and when he got home & out of his

“appropriate attire,”

he was appropriately beaten

by his flabbergasted mother who couldn’t believe

that one boy who couldn’t stop itching

would embarrass her in front of the whole

church.


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