sacrament meeting

sanguine lollipops sucked

and dandelions prematurely plucked

from the field. all are welcome to watch them dance 

during snack time, but without a crew cut cupped

by a white collar, you are just another displaced 

voyeur. on an olive wood stage with beige

loafers and gummy squares of starched gluttony, they 

wring the necks of rosy lads who passed lavender 

posies through monkey bars.

when called back inside,

they cartwheel with crossed eyes,

tittering at all the cracked humpty

heads they threw aside in gethsemane.