In the Confessional
Listening for the
door to slide,
I self examine.
My throat spasms up thru my lips,
a ball of gossip.
Gossip rolls down the
front of my dress.
Horrified, I grasped
for it, as it ricochets off the walls
and out the door.
Gossip sneaked under
the pews.
That slippery sphere
rolled on faster and faster,
murmuring away.
Horror sucked away my
breath;
mocking me, rolling on.
I find myself running on my knees,
passed shocked penitents.
Down the aisle to the
Tabernacle.
Gossip mocked louder.
How vile and loathsome is gossip,
Slippery, slimy, sphere.
Leaping to snatch it
up quickly,
it slips my fingers
and rolls down the steps out the church,
muttering insults.
Once outside, gossip
bounces
every which way.
Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.
I scream.
It’s uncontrollable.
Uncaring, gossip runs
away
into the busy street,
Right under the tires of a car.
The taunting stops.
Flattened, the ball
of gossip breaks
open a bleeding stream
of lies, stories, and useless talk--
dripping a foul trail.
Off the road and into
the gutter
run my lies and shame,
now absolved by God’s mercy,
down the sewer drain.
