Take from me my bitter, grudging, phlegmy gift
Of abnegation, obligation, shit
That’s hit the fan and been reconstituted
As talc to make me sneeze and get all rheumy.
“God bless you,” someone says. “God bless yourself.”
Take my grim enthusiasm, all
My willingness to volunteer for Hell,
For this or that committee, Sunday School,
My principled procrastination, each
And every vow broken for good cause.
The Lord & I’ve agreed to take some time apart.
I don’t mean God, not wholly. I do mean church.
I’m tired of sand in the lamp. I need time and please
No more gall in my private sacred heart.
Marnie Bullock Dresser lives in Spring Green, Wisconsin with her husband and son and two cats and a fair bit of clutter.