Church Basements (a poem)

A teacher told my mother I’d join a cult –

that was in the ‘90s + twenty years later,

I was a recovery zealot, driving through

snowstorms to share my sorrows with

strangers, always thinking I was in danger,

fighting my impulses + a mind that

seemed to want me dead.

(Photo by Karl Fredrickson on Unsplash)

Surrender (a poem)

You think God has left you, that perhaps

you’ve outgrown Him –

we all want to be gods now, in control of the things

that spin around us.

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