Herbie sat the class down and told us how,
Only when you really love someone, you’d
Let the car idle, hold hands, and pray on
Dates instead of necking. How sexy to be
In Sunday School class hunched with girl-chasing,
Necking-prone boys and boy-crazy Christian
Girls cajoled, attended to, by Herbie.
Here’s the church, here’s the steeple, open doors,
And see the people—a game taught children to
Numb them into sitting during sermons.
Doing this simply focussed the wiggling.
So prayer on dates focusses the writhing.
I love to hold your hand in church under
Neath the weight of our bowed heads in stained light.
Chasing through our minds over our terrible
Hurdles are our problems which we whisper
Under our breaths as praying. Our bodies
Roll slightly side to side, beneath the beliefs of
Centuries pressed. Herbie extolled the holding of
Hands in church, if you really love the man.
Now see the spirit writhe where bodies writhed,
Our prayer dangerous, as our play was, thus
When we hold hands now it is as necessary:
flesh is still the church.