Four Church Signs Outside Clemson, South Carolina

THE BIBLE YOU GREW UP WITH
            church sign near my home

The Big Book of wisdom literature
was brought by rural route delivery
twice a year, a working woman’s
wish book, a catalog, it seemed

of the whole earth. A testament
to our devotion, we’d await with
anticipation each season’s
revelation of the gospel truth.

For my grandparents, a storied
history in its pages—toilet
paper, insulation, wallpaper and
window-cleaner—

and its products, or
so they told, homes
and heroin, hubcaps
and tombstones too.

But now, tome and tower—the
world’s tallest for twenty-five
years—both bankrupt, debts
unforgiven by bigger boxers.

 

THE MOST POWERFUL POSITION IS ON YOUR KNEES
             church sign near my home

All the elephants in the room agree
that this one takes the cake
and eats it too

from missionary
to cowgirl, from top
to bottom.

But even those free to run
tall through the understory,
engineering an ecosystem

remember ringmasters,
remember what it’s like
to be goaded by bullhooks

to genuflect under tents, stoop
for battlefield mount,
lift logs of once-sheltering teak.

It’s still a balancing act,
juggling memory and moment,
to fall to one’s knees

not in surrender, but
simply to luxuriate in
the cool mud.

 

THE ORIGINAL TOLL-FREE NUMBER IS GOD’S
            church sign near my home

First-come, first served,
given the number of calls.
Such a handy marketing
mnemonic, a vanity if you will,
with the prefix’s portability,
if only interstate and inbound.

But all the mediating
infrastructure, trunk
lines and switching
offices, all the sacer-
doting, couldn’t make
us all want to call

the same number in
the same way, to
fall hotline and sinker for
a telephony of never-
never, only incarnate
in the clouds.

 

DUSTY BIBLES, DIRTY LIVES
            church sign near my home

It can’t be denied
but not clear it’s causal

coming down from
its high perch

for reference, but no
dustier than many

other things—old
portraits, well-loved

books, lamps and linen,
knobs and knockers, shelf

tops, under-beds, fan
blades, free weights—

everything but
the kitchen sink

which, truth be told,
is a fine kettle of fish.

And while I wouldn’t sneeze
at the chance to sport a

cervical spine compatible
with cleaning, I’m not

convinced it would make
much difference. As any

dog could tell you, it’s much
more fun to spend your days

playing in the dirt.