Bible Belt Buckle

Bible Belt Buckle

Blessed be the rock upon which this church stands–

'cross from a Church’s Chicken ‘cause church folk love

Chicken legs and white meat. Sancti-fried chicken, holy

Rollin’ mac and cheese, and a honey butter biscuit combo.

Blessed be them wooden church pews in that no cushion church,

Preachin' fire and brimstone deep in the Mississippi Delta. They

ain’t got but corn stalks and cotton fields 'cross there. Church

pew creakin' when Mother Mayfield catch the Holy Ghost.

Blessed be that tambourine smacking Mother Mayberry’s thenars

At the holy hoedown. The angels beam down from heaven 

Above and shine a soft ray of yelluh light through that stained

glass window, the one decoration they could get. 

Blessed be the saints for their blues bow down, and Jesus jumps

For joy. That Pentecostal church speakin' in tongues about

His return and the rapture, preachin' revival. All praises be

To the Most High God, my God, my Rock. Amen.

This poem is from a collection of poems I wrote about my experience with homesickness. It has hints of southern rhythm and alliteration and syntax. This poem was an exercise to see if I could remember the cadence of my home state, Mississippi, while living on an island with a different rhythm and cadence.