one and only truth
(your beliefs are very nice, though)
one and only truth
(your beliefs are very nice, though)
being Mormon meant you were special.
from the get-go, they teach children that
every other religion on earth is wrong, or only
partially right.
but you aren’t wrong.
we aren’t wrong // we’re the only ones who are right.
from the time they’re eight, each child gets
inoculated
by and with
a requisite
conceptual paradox:
we know this is the
one and only
true church
we say these
things
humbly…
from the pulpit, the
introjects and projections
are
rote yet dynamic
clear and unclear
certain and mysterious
and
aloud, they’re told:
be accepting // be loving // be non-judgmental.
but understood
and in bold:
be-cause we’re better than everyone else
be-cause we’re right
be-cause they are all wrong.
it’s exhausting,
the weekly shots of
cognitive dissonance
so
everyone comes home from church
like emptied paper-cups
that have been strewn along the road
during a summer marathon —
drained then crumpled into a ball
in a fist of sweat and
single-foggy-mindedness
mentally tossed-and-turned,
they land on a couch or bed
napping dreamlessly,
drool
open-mouth snores
myoclonic jerks, all while
their Mormon wives
and mothers push through the
fatigue by humming the closing hymns like
“there is work enough to do (ere the sun go down!)
for yourself and others, too (ere the sun go down!)”
or
“put your shoulder to the wheel, push along (push along!)
do your duty with a heart full of song (full of song!)
we all have work/ let no one shirk…”
to cook the traditional
elaborate Sunday meal
for their families…like rewards
like getting a sucker or ice cream
for being good boys and girls.
not crying or making a fuss
when the solemn-suited
men at church
jab them
with invisible needles
filled with crazy.
— j.a. carter-winward ©
From work in progress: dialogues & poems
COMING: JULY 24th, 2021
Preorder your copy HERE
