psalm for the damned

damned from four onward when i was kicked

out of sunday school for venturing in my

raspy little ragamuffin voice that

animals had souls

spent that whole morning in the courtyard garden 

of camellias star jasmine and gardenias

inhaling a floral scented sermon that spared me the

fire and brimstone that i guess only

holy water could quench

when i got a little older i

lit candle after candle with as many quarters as i could

nick from the change jar above the fridge

just to see the dim glow 

of cheap candles and hope refracted through

the bottoms up ruby glasses

prayer was cylindrical, answers were angles

hell was conjecture and sin was a seesaw

i lost first comfort then faith but

still feel a stitch of pleasure at the cinnamon swirl of church robes

still feel winded when the choir holds a note

still feel vertigo when i hear a pipe organ

still feel soothed by the mossy scritch of the pews

still feel starry when stained glass saturates the sidewalk

still fear devils and honor angels