Our Father, Who Art In Heaven, Hallowed Be Thy Name by Kristin Garth

Kristin Garth is the author of seventeen books of poetry including Flutter Southern Gothic Fever Dream, The Meadow and Candy Cigarette Womanchild Noir.  She is the Dollhouse Architect of Pink Plastic House a tiny journal and has a weekly sonnet podcast called Kristin Whispers Sonnets.  Visit her site Kristingarth.com and talk to her on Twitter @lolaandjoli

Our Father, Who Art In Heaven,

Hallowed Be Thy Name 

after Servant

Supposition — serpent, even though 

young palms are pressed in prayer, hisses viewed 

illicitly/whispers on a woolen square; you know 

its provenance is worship.  You 

never practiced it before — virgin knees,

theocracies, sinner at the door. Strew 

woven bargain antiquities on these 

frigid blanched floorboards.  The coldest room in

this house you offered to the Lord or his 

adolescent resurrector —  a Wisconsin 

appropriated ward prays for your prosthesis, 

infant replacement, squishy silicone.

Our father in this house, leave this one alone.