Daniel J. Flore III

A CHURCH SERVICE FOR ONE

I would like to go to a church and pray on my knees in an empty sanctuary.

Then I would get up and sing along with “The First time Ever I Saw Your Face” by Roberta Flack on my phone as the worship service.

I would light a cigarette in there as my incense then I would preach a sermon about how I should give up smoking.

I would say something to God like I miss you and look at the stained glass that looks like it is made of blood and think about all the prayers uttered in this building and what they all might have meant to the Lord.

I would hock up all of my phlegm in a gold offering plate and leave a couple bucks in another.

Snoozing in the pew with my cat I would adjust my blanket so that I was completely covered and count lost sheep being found by their shepherd.

I would not be afraid of being profane in this holy sanctuary.

God knows how bad it’s been and I’m here to flush out the toxins.

I would take communion with a bun from a Whopper and a Coke, baptize my forehead with the sweat on my Burger King cup and I would cross myself as I exited and breathe an easier breath than when I came in.

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