I grew up, on Sundays,
drawing on my mother's stockings,
happily coloring Joseph's famous coat
II. Middle School
I dined on the blood
and body of Jesus Christ--
sweet grape juice and tasteless
wafers emblazoned with thin crosses--
after being dressed in white
and baptized in the warm
water bath at the front
of my bilingual Pentecostal church.
III. High School
My shirt said Prayer Warrior,
and I preached against abortions.
I also spent hours hiding
I wrote poetry about hypocrisy--
homeless men being kicked out
of the newly carpeted church;
young women punished after rape.
Thanks to Just Another Blogger for inspiring my new "In 100 Words" series.