Chapter 9
yesterdays ago
I saw long haired hippies in black and white
religious groupies squatting everywhere
telling fortunes under Shaman trance
drop a bit of change into the center of the tambourine
and watch them twirl like marionettes
on every corner of Mister Rogers make-believe neighborhood
she took me winter shopping at the mall
a Nostradamus at every entrance
Salvation Army Santas ring their bells like
Lionel Hampton
so grandpa use to tell me
when he jitterbugged in dance halls back in his day
and I didn’t know who to believe in
didn’t really care
as long as my toys were under the tree every Christmas morning
if I were bold enough to ask
and I was never bold enough to ask
would be told to look it up in
chapter 9
it’s in there somewhere
look it up for yourself
book
chapter
not sure
but it’s in there somewhere
answer found like a needle in a haystack of verses
that thing that will cure your ill
save your soul from sin
the secret sauce in that Sunday afternoon dinner
the preacher and his wife coming back each week
succumbing to the
“itis“
found prostrate on the living room couch
resurrected in time to preach the seven o’clock service
text
I don’t remember
book
new testament
old testament
long lost in old and dusty memories and travelled miles
but I do remember being told
the answer would be somewhere in chapter 9
and to go
look it up for yourself
*****
Poem © Newpanther
Image: Worshae Unsplash remixed