Poem Hunter
Experience, A Religious
( / Midwest)

Experience, A Religious

Poem By Ben Paynter

At church again for the first
time in nearly a year I watch
myself when I was younger
as if it’s me without the years
and how intently I listened
to the stories back then. It was
always a miracle. The fan spins
on the ceiling above
it’s hot as hell, the air sits
quietly refusing to move. A man
sits with his wife and son two rows
ahead of me, he is occupied with
the sight of a young woman wearing
a low cut dress and sin dripping
from her still damp hair. The pastor
is talking about judgment day
but can’t stop looking out
the window. It’s all coming
back to me.
A loaf of bread, a goblet of wine.
The world came from nothing,
it makes sense
when you think about it.

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