My Friend Devon Asks What I Get out of Church
A checkup on my OCD.
The “Our Father’s” joined hands,
Communion wafer in palm.
I draw the line at holy water.
Holy? Shouldn’t it be contagion-
free? Ah, dogma. I’m not praying
against the contraction of a virus.
Nor do I adhere to the bulletin’s
list of intentions, though please
pull through, Sr. Berniece,
your kindergarten classroom
alphabet with its X xylophone
and B bat, where I was safe
a year before abused.
Devon, I go because it’s a milestone
when I progress from holding
a stranger’s five-fingered germth
to Eucharist between thumb and index.
The favor I seek accompanied by Southern
pipe organ: His salvage that I survive my head.
Jon Riccio is a PhD candidate at the University of Southern Mississippi's Center for Writers. A 2018 Lambda Poetry Fellow, recent work appears in decomP, SUSAN, Wordgathering, and Word For/ Word, among others. He received his MFA from the University of Arizona.
Write something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview.