Almost Sunday

So the lambs begin again
to push the wool from their eyes
and search for the shepherd.

…………..They are nothing if not lost.

Reverend Johnson insists on driving
the babysitter home in his new Lexus,
moves his righteous hand up her skirt
to feel how moist her faith is.

…………..If you don’t believe it’s a sin,
…………..then it isn’t.

At home, his wife reins in her suspicions
as she pulls her imported silk stockings
off the clothesline before the storm hits,
highlights a passage in the good book:

………..…And so I incline my ear unto wisdom
…………..and apply my heart to understanding.

Stuck in his high chair,
the preacher’s toddler makes
a cross on his breakfast plate
with two slices of burnt bacon,
stares out the window in awe
as a rainbow arches its tattooed arm
over the entire neighborhood,
as the sky glistens like stained glass.

*James Whitley's work has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and has appeared or is forthcoming in several publications, including Barrelhouse, Can We Have Our Ball Back?, Gargoyle, Mississippi Review, Pebble Lake Review, and River City. His first book Immersion won the Naomi Long Madgett Poetry Award. His second book This Is the Red Door won the Ironweed Press Poetry Prize and will be published in 2006.