I Am Not The Same Size

To speak up on Sunday
when religion strikes like
the back of a hand

would be a sin. To question
a written truth bound
by message and baggaged with
fear

would be unthinkable.
But I do! But I do!

I let those words of hymn drain
slow down my throat,
digesting each He and Him,

and I am not the same size
as my companions in these walls.
I am unworthy.

I am faithless in my tongue
because I cannot taste it.
But I do! But I do!

I am full of confession, I swallow them
like bone slivers after the fasting.

My prayer is splintered by
knees on the floor.
My Dear God, humble me more!

Countermeasure

Little Brother Brazen
lives on floor number four
without shoes

the pharmacy is closed
forever indefinitely
like windows
are
up on the fourth floor

Little Puny Palms
hoarded
a wealth of contaminates
swallowing
dosage after dosage
until
an overdosed panic spilled
confession from
his eyes

he was charged
to
green masked men
green masked
women

clear plastic tubes
forced liquid charcoal
to disgorge
rich heaps of self-inflicted
euthanasia

My
Little Brother Brazen
was charged
to floor number four
where Dr. Head
took his windows
and shoes

countermeasure.